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Carl  Hans  Lody. 


[Front  isj'iece. 


German  Spies  at  ‘Bay 

‘Being  an  ^Actual  Record  of  the  German  Espionage 
in  Great  Britain  during  the  years  19 14-19 18, 
compiled  from  Official  Sources 

*By  Sidney  Theodore  Felstead 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 


This  book  has  been  submitted  to  the  War  Office  and  passed  for  publication. 


NEW  YORK: 

BRENTANO’  S 


Printed  in  Great  Britain 


PREFACE 


F 


**) 
O  M, 


4 


The  late  war  has  been  unprecedented  for  many  reasons, 
one  of  which  is  the  large  number  of  memoirs  written  by 
the  sailors  and  soldiers  who  actually  controlled  the  naval 
and  military  destinies  of  their  respective  nations.  Such 
a  proceeding  is  in  vivid  contrast  to  the  past,  and  the  effect 
of  this  frankness  is  likely  to  exercise  a  curious  result  on 
wars  of  the  future.  Whether  that  influence  will  be  good 
or  bad  time  alone  can  tell. 

In  presenting  to  the  public  a  narrative  of  the  doings  of 
the  German  spies  in  Great  Britain  during  the  time  of  the 
Great  War  I  am  hoping  that  the  facts  revealed  will  help 
to  assess  at  their  true  worth  some  of  the  methods  by 
which  the  Germans  make  war.  It  would  seem,  to  judge 
by  the  activities  of  his  Secret  Service,  that  the  Hun  was 
by  no  means  as  clever  as  he  would  have  had  the  world 
believe.  Of  course,  against  this  must  be  reckoned  the 
fact  that,  being  a  group  of  islands,  we  were  in  a  much 
better  position  to  resist  the  clandestine  activities  of  the 
-enemy  than  were  our  French  Allies. 

It  would  also  appear  that  preparation  is  not  everything. 
The  Germans  started  the  war  with  a  great  deal  of  pre¬ 
paration,  in  their  Secret  Service  as  in  everything  else, 
but  it  availed  them  nothing  in  the  end.  During  the  closing 
months  of  the  war  our  intelligence  agents  outnumbered 
those  of  the  Germans  by  at  least  five  to  one.  And  I  am 
-afraid  that  this  arose  irom  .the  fact  that,  although  the 


IV 


PREFACE 


enemy  could  not  seduce  the  allegiance  of  any  true-born 
British  subjects,  even  those  whom  he  had  interned  in  his 
prison  camps,  the  same  scruples  were  not  ingrained  in  the 
breasts  of  the  Germans.  Thousands  of  them  were  only 
too  glad  to  undertake  espionage  for  one  or  another  of  the 
Allies. 

This  account  of  how  our  counter-espionage  authorities 
frustrated  the  efforts  of  the  German  Secret  Service  in 
Great  Britain  is,  I  hope,  but  the  forerunner  of  many 
similar  phases  of  the  war.  There  are  many  marvellous 
stories  still  to  be  told,  especially  those  dealing  with  inven¬ 
tions  which  effected  a  radical  alteration  in  the  course  of 
the  war.  One  in  particular  is  that  of  the  evolution  of 
directional  wireless  telegraphy,  an  innovation  which  was 
directly  responsible  for  Field-Marshal  Lord  Allenby  trap¬ 
ping  and  destroying  the  Turkish  Third  Army  in  Palestine. 
In  addition,  this  new  method  brought  about  many  of  the 
triumphs  of  the  late  Lieut. -General  Sir  Stanley  Maude  in 
Mesopotamia.  Report  has  it  that  the  inventor  has  up  to 
date  been  rewarded  with  a  Military  Cross  !  although  I  am 
not  prepared  to  vouch  for  the  truth  of  that  statement. 

London,  February,  1920, 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

The  German  spy  system  in  Great  Britain  prior  to  the  war — 
Its  destruction  on  the  outbreak  of  hostilities 

CHAPTER  II 

August  4,  1914 — Our  organization  to  cope  with  espionage — 
The  War  Office  arrangements  ..... 

CHAPTER  III 

An  execution  in  the  Tower  of  London — Carl  Hans  Lody — His 
last  words  and  letters — Anthony  Ktipferle — His  amazing 
confession  and  suicide  ...... 

CHAPTER  IV 

Spy  mania  in  Great  Britain — Karl  Frederick  Muller  and 
Peter  Hahn — How  we  trapped  the  most  important  spy  of 
the  war — The  astonishing  story  of  Robert  Rosenthal 

CHAPTER  V 

The  spy  M.P. — The  true  history  of  I.  T.  T.  Lincoln 

CHAPTER  VI 

The  Postal  Censorship — How  it  assisted  to  trap  German  spies 
— International  complications — Baffling  the  enemy 
cipher  experts  ........ 

CHAPTER  VII 

The  Naval  Intelligence  Division — Rear-Admiral  Hall  and  his 
methods — The  amusing  case  of  Conrad  Leyter,  secret 
dispatch  carrier — Boarding  Officers  and  their  captures — 
Matahari  and  her  visit  to  Scotland  Yard — A  ration  of 
Iron  Crosses — Frederick  Parker  Dunbar — The  Baron  Otto 
von  Gumppenberg  ....... 

CHAPTER  VIII 

Second  German  attempt  to  establish  spy  system  in  Great 
Britain — Capture  of  seven  spies  in  a  fortnight — Janssen 
and  Roos— Breeckow  and  Mrs.  Wertheim — Fernando 
Buschman,  violinist  and  spy — Augusto  Alfredo  Roggen — 
Ernst  Waldemar  Melin  ...... 


PAGE 

1 

1 1 

23 

4i 

58 

69 

84 

100 


vi  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  IX 

What  the  Germans  sought — Crude  secret  inks — The  Tragedy 
of  the  Tinned  Fish — Ludovico  Hurwitz-y-Zender — German 
methods  of  espionage — Lincoln  at  the  Admiralty — Irving 
Guy  Ries,  film  operator  and  spy — Courtenay  de  Rysbach, 
naturalized  British  subject,  music-hall  artist  and  spy — 
Albert  Meyer,  the  spy  of  Soho  .  .  .  .  .135 

CHAPTER  X 

Scotland  Yard — The  part  it  played  in  counter-espionage — Sir 
Basil  Thomson — How  he  interrogated  the  spies — The 
Odyssey  of  Captain  Hans  Boehm — A  bow  which  betrayed 
a  German  agent — Madame  Popovitch — A  lady  who  took  us 
unawares — Kenneth  Triest,  student  and  would-be  spy — 
Joseph  Marks  and  his  code  .  .  .  .  .  .159 

CHAPTER  XI 

The  astonishing  case  of  Mdlle.  Eva  de  Bournonville — Indian 
revolutionary  plots — Miss  Brunner  and  her  sister — Mrs. 
Gertrud  Evelin,  the  German  post  woman — Baron  Louis 
von  Horst  and  Lilian  Scott  Troy  .  .  .  .  .187 

CHAPTER  XII 

The  spy  who  sought  sanctuary — Adolfo  Guerrero,  a  spy 
unable  to  speak  English,  and  Raymonde  Amondarain — 

A  Danish  suspect — Axel  Grebst  .....  206 

CHAPTER  XIII 

The  spy  who  dealt  in  films — Belgian  spies — The  cases  of  Pierre 
Rothheudt  and  Madame  Albertine  Stanaway — Getting 
on  the  track  of  the  master  spies  in  Holland  .  .  .221 

CHAPTER  XIV 

The  great  spy  conspiracy  carried  out  by  American  journalists 
— George  Vaux  Bacon — Rutledge  Rutherford — Robert 

W - The  wonderful  secret  ink — Sentenced  to  death 

and  reprieved  ........  233 


CHAPTER  XV 

Alfred  Hagn,  spy  and  artist — The  spy  who  was  afraid — In¬ 
visible  inks  and  how  they  were  used — The  Ruhleben 
prisoner  who  offered  to  guide  Zeppelins — Professor  Kuno 
Meyer’s  fair  correspondent  .  .  .  .  .  -254 

CHAPTER  XVI 

Did  Germany  succeed  in  her  espionage  ? — The  character  of  her 

spies — Steinhauer  .......  278 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Carl  Hans  Lody  .....  Frontispiece 
Anthony  Kiipferle  and  the  message  he  wrote 


on  his  prison  slate  . 

• 

• 

.  Facing  p. 

38 

Karl  Frederick  Muller 

• 

ft 

48 

Robert  Rosenthal 

ft 

54 

Rear-Admiral  Sir  W.  R.  Hall 

ft 

86 

Matahari  .... 

ft 

90 

Haicke  Petrus  Marinus  Janssen 

ft 

112 

Willem  Johannes  Roos 

ft 

112 

Georg  T.  Breeckow  . 

ft 

116 

Execution  Chair  used  in  the  Tower  of  London 

ft 

116 

Fernando  Buschman  . 

ft 

122 

Augusto  Alfredo  Roggen  . 

ft 

128 

Ernst  Waldemar  Melin 

ft 

128 

Ludovico  Hurwitz-y-Zender 

ft 

140 

Irving  Guy  Ries 

ft 

148 

Courtenay  de  Rysbach 

ft 

150 

Albert  Meyer 

ft 

156 

Sir  Basil  Thomson 

ft 

164 

George  Vaux  Bacon  . 

ft 

238 

GERMAN  SPIES  AT  BAY 


CHAPTER  I 

The  German  spy  system  in  Great  Britain  prior  to  the  war — Its 
destruction  on  the  outbreak  of  hostilities. 

I  am  writing  this  book  that  something  may  be  known 
of  the  manner  in  which  we  were  guarded  from  the 
secret  perils  of  the  late  war.  Countless  volumes  have 
been  written  revealing  the  glories  of  our  armies  in  the 
field ;  the  Navy  has  had  its  deeds  chronicled  in 
brilliant  fashion  by  writers  who  have  had  personal 
acquaintance  with  them. 

But  there  is  another  side  to  the  war  of  which  all 
too  little  has  ever  been  made  known — that  of  the 
service  which  protected  us  against  spies,  against  the 
terrible  crime  of  sabotage,  which  wreaked  such  havoc 
in  Russia  and  the  United  States  of  America,  of  our 
propaganda  and  counter-propaganda  and  a  host  of 
other  things,  all  the  more  effective  that  little,  if  any¬ 
thing  authentic,  was  ever  said  about  them. 

The  time  has  come  when  it  is  possible  for  the  veil 
to  be  lifted.  But  as  a  preliminary  I  should  like  the 
reader  to  understand  that  this  is  a  narrative  of  fact. 
During  the  war  an  immense  amount  of  fiction,  alleged 
to  be  founded  on  actual  happenings,  was  written  around 
the  doings  of  German  spies  in  Great  Britain.  These 
stories,  as  may  be  imagined,  gave  an  altogether  false 


i 


2 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

impression  of  the  subtlety  of  the  German  Secret 
Service,  and  they  also  credited  the  enemy  with  making 
a  great  deal  more  preparation  than  was  actually  so. 
What  I  have  to  tell  is  nothing  but  truth  :  I  am  not 
one  who  would  weave  a  halo  around  the  head  of  a 
German  spy,  especially  in  view  of  the  fact  that  most 
of  the  enemy  agents  whom  we  brought  to  justice 
were  hirelings,  men  and  women  who  spied  for  what 
it  would  bring. 

Of  the  multifarious  duties  of  “  Special  Intelligence,” 
the  department  responsible  for  the  duties  I  have 
just  indicated,  one  could  write  without  end.  That 
of  the  Postal  Censorship  alone  involved  the  employ¬ 
ment  of  over  four  thousand  people,  and  the  results 
which  sprang  out  of  the  work  are  to  this  day  incal¬ 
culable.  By  it  we  kept  a  check  on  the  German  spy 
system  which  brought  to  light  some  of  the  most 
astounding  comedies  and  dramas  of  the  war,  stories 
of  secret  inks  and  ciphers  which  might  well  belong  to 
the  realm  of  the  writer  of  fiction. 

The  average  man  in  the  street  will  have  little  or  no 
conception  of  the  fact  that  we  established  during  the  war 
an  Imperial  and  Inter- Allied  Intelligence  Organization 
which  played  an  exceedingly  successful  part  in  defeat¬ 
ing  the  enemy.  He  knows  that  we  assumed  control 
of  the  cables  immediately  war  was  declared  :  does  he 
realize  the  colossal  work  involved  in  cutting  Germany 
off  from  the  outside  world,  of  gradually  closing  down 
all  her  sources  of  supply,  or  the  unceasing  vigilance 
which  was  necessary  that  cipher  messages  should  not 
flash  across  the  ocean,  eventually  to  reach  a  far- 
distant  enemy  agent,  and  result  in  some  act  of  sabotage, 
or  in  the  sending  of  a  spy  from  a  neutral  country  ? 

Primarily,  of  course,  the  object  of  “  Special  Intel- 


The  Beginning  of  the  Campaign  3 

ligence  ”  was  counter-espionage,  and  it  is  to  that 
fascinating  subject  that  this  book  is  devoted.  Who 
did  not  feel  a  thrill  in  the  early  days  of  the  war  when 
“  German  spy  ”  was  mentioned  ? 

There  have  been  spies  from  the  time  of  Rahab,  and 
although  we  British  people,  with  perhaps  unconscious 
hypocrisy,  indulge  in  heated  indignation  when  the 
German  spy  system  is  discussed,  we  are  really  deluding 
ourselves.  Spies  and  counter-spies  exist  in  every 
civilized  country  of  the  world,  and  much  as  we  may 
abhor  their  necessity,  they  are  a  concomitant  of  war¬ 
fare  without  which  no  belligerent  nation  could  main¬ 
tain  operations  in  the  field.  Never  was  this  illus¬ 
trated  better  than  in  the  Russo-Japanese  War.  For 
want  of  spies  the  Russians  fought  decisive  battles  in 
the  most  appalling  ignorance  of  the  enemy  strength, 
while  on  the  other  hand,  the  Japanese,  whose  Secret 
Service  is  perhaps  the  best  in  the  world,  were  actually 
receiving  information  from  their  spies  at  Russian 
Headquarters. 

One  has  to  go  back  some  years  to  trace  the  genesis 
of  the  German  spy  organization  in  Great  Britain. 
Its  recent  development  can  probably  be  dated  from 
1905,  a  period  when  the  Emperor  William  first  began 
to  reveal  the  thoughts  of  European  domination  which 
lay  dormant  in  his  mind.  Certainly  at  the  time  the 
notorious  Steinhauer,  a  personal  friend  of  the  Kaiser, 
was  appointed  to  the  head  of  the  German  Secret 
Service,  and  signalized  his  advent  by  throwing  around 
Europe,  especially  Russia,  France  and  Great  Britain, 
a  network  of  male  and  female  spies,  whose  fell  work, 
so  far  as  the  first-mentioned  country  is  concerned,  has 

1* 


4 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

an  everlasting  monument  to-day  in  Bolshevism.  I 
shall  have  more  to  tell  of  Steinhauer  later. 

In  Great  Britain  the  German  Secret  Service  mainly 
devoted  its  energies  to  the  securing  of  information 
dealing  with  our  Navy.  We  had  several  visits  from 
Steinhauer  himself,  and  from  time  to  time  naval 
officers  would  be  tempted — for  a  monetary  considera¬ 
tion — to  write  on  things  that  were  happening.  The 
German  was  certainly  artful ;  he  would  approach  a 
neutral,  usually  a  Dutchman  or  Scandinavian,  and 
with  him  make  arrangements  for  publishing  a  work 
dealing  with  the  navies  of  the  world.  To  acquire  the 
British  particulars  and  to  allay  suspicion  it  was 
necessary  to  appoint  an  English  agent,  who  would  be 
requested  to  obtain  from  authoritative  sources  articles 
written  by  naval  officers  and  paid  for  at  remunerative 
rates.  Couched  in  flattering  phraseology,  such  as 
the  world-wide  renown  of  the  officer  on  some  special 
subject,  a  letter  would  be  sent,  asking  for  articles 
dealing  with  matters  such  as  light  cruisers  of  the 
future,  or  a  dissertation  on  the  possibilities  of  the 
destroyer  in  its  relation  to  submarines.  It  was  all 
very  crafty ;  the  extent  to  which  it  succeeded  is 
another  matter. 

Open  bribery  of  naval  ratings  was  occasionally 
resorted  to,  one  instance  being  that  of  a  Chief  Gunner 
named  Parrott.  Timely  discovery  led  to  Parrott’s 
arrest  and  subsequent  conviction,  and  an  alteration 
in  armament  which  left  the  Germans  as  wise  as  before. 
But,  in  the  main,  the  German  Secret  Service  strongly 
deprecated  buying  information  openly '  it  was  far 
too  dangerous.  There  was  a  spy  who  came  to  this 
country  for  naval  information  who  was  followed 
all  over  the  country,  and  on  his  departure  to  Rotter- 


5 


Waiting  for  War 

dam  was  accompanied,  without  his  knowledge,  by  a 
British  agent,  who,  in  the  disguise  of  a  tatterdemalion, 
down-at-heel  loafer,  sat  alongside  the  German  on  the 
seat  of  a  park  while  the  latter  detailed  to  his  principal 
the  result  of  his  visit  to  Great  Britain.  We  were  not 
so  slow,  even  in  those  days. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

The  outbreak  of  the  great  European  War  in  1914 
found  Germany  without  a  spy  system  in  this  country. 
The  reason  for  this  did  not  lie  at  the  door  of  Stein- 
hauer,  but  rather  at  that  of  certain  far-seeing  English 
gentlemen,  who  for  some  years  previously  had  a  strong 
suspicion  that  the  day  was  not  far  distant  when 
Germany  would  throw  off  the  mask  of  friendship  and 
reveal  her  true  intentions  towards  mankind  in  general. 
Acting  on  the  assumption  that  it  is  easier  to  deal  with 
a  peril  you  know  than  one  you  are  uncertain  of, 
we  forbore  to  arrest  the  numerous  German  spies  in 
this  country.  We  were  contented  with  keeping  our¬ 
selves  informed  of  their  numerous  activities  and  mani¬ 
festing  a  personal  interest  in  their  correspondence. 

The  assassination  of  the  Archduke  Francis  Ferdi¬ 
nand  on  Sunday,  June  28th,  1914,  was  a  danger  signal 
appreciated  to  the  full  by  our  counter-espionage 
officials.  A  fortnight  later,  when  the  clouds  of  war 
were  gathering  fast,  there  was  full-dress  mobilization 
of  that  Military  Intelligence  Department  which  con¬ 
cerned  itself  with  counter-espionage.  The  fruits  of 
our  long  and  unwearied  vigilance  over  the  German 
spies  in  Great  Britain  were  about  to  fall  into  our 
hand,  and  we  wanted  to  ascertain  how  the  plucking 
would  work. 

I  must  digress  for  a  few  moments  to  deal  with  the 


6 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

case  of  Karl  Gustav  Ernst,  who,  on  November  13th, 
1914,  was  sentenced  to  seven  years’  penal  servitude  on 
a  charge  of  espionage.  Ernst,  a  German  born  in  Britain, 
married  to  a  German  woman,  the  proprietor  of  a 
hairdressing  establishment  in  the  Caledonian  Road, 
North  London,  was  the  pivot  on  which  the  German 
spy  system  in  this  land  to  a  large  extent  turned.  A 
broken  reed,  one  thought,  seeing  him  in  the  dock  at 
the  Old  Bailey,  but  possibly  the  best  Germany  could 
obtain. 

Somewhere  about  the  end  of  1910  Ernst  was  ap¬ 
proached  by  another  German  barber,  Kronauer  by 
name,  as  to  whether  he  would  be  willing  to  forward 
to  people  in  Great  Britain  letters  received  from  a 
“  commercial  inquiry  agency  ”  in  Berlin.  These 
letters,  already  stamped,  would  be  sent  to  him  in 
large  envelopes  ;  all  he  had  to  do  was  to  re-post 
them  to  the  people  concerned.  The  remuneration 
for  this  work  was  to  be  one  pound  a  month,  a  sum 
which  Kronauer  said  he  was  receiving  for  like  duties. 
Why  the  “  commercial  inquiry  agency  ”  should  have 
required  their  letters  to  be  franked  with  British 
stamps  and  cancelled  by  the  postmark  of  this  country 
was  a  shallow  mystery  which,  apparently,  did  not 
require  much  solution.  Ernst,  under  cross-examina¬ 
tion,  alleged  that  he  was  ignorant  at  first  as  to  the  real 
nature  of  the  work,  although  he  confessed  to  com¬ 
municating  with  Steinhauer  in  Berlin,  whose  nom 
dc  guerre  was  temporarily  Madame  Reimers.  His 
tale  received  the  reception  it  deserved,  and  his  sentence 
of  seven  years’  penal  servitude  was  a  fitting  punish¬ 
ment.  He  was  lucky  to  escape  with  his  life. 

I  have  gone  to  some  length  in  writing  of  such  an 
insignificant  personality  as  Ernst,  but  the  importance 


7 


Ready  for  “  The  Day  ” 

of  the  matter  is  sufficient  justification.  The  Berlin 
address  from  which  he  received  the  letters  for  re¬ 
posting  was  that  of  the  headquarters  of  the  German 
Secret  Service.  The  letters  received  were,  in  the  main, 
addressed  to  the  German  spies  scattered  throughout 
the  country.  About  two  hundred  a  month  was 
Ernst’s  quota,  so  that  he  cannot  be  said  to  have 
been  overpaid,  although  Steinhauer  did  increase  his 
remuneration  to  the  munificent  sum  of  thirty  shillings 
a  month  when  he  protested.  It  was  not  a  great  deal, 
certainly,  to  imperil  one’s  life  for. 

These  happenings,  together  with  a  visit  to  Ernst 
on  the  part  of  Steinhauer,  who  wished  him  to  obtain 
other  Germans  who  would  do  the  same  work,  had  not 
passed  unnoticed.  Our  Military  Intelligence  Depart¬ 
ment  were  taking  more  than  a  passing  interest  in  the 
correspondence  received  by  the  little  German  barber 
of  Caledonian  Road,  and  an  even  more  pronounced 
interest  in  the  people  to  whom  he  sent  his  Berlin  letters. 
Officials  who  thoroughly  understood  German  were 
taking  the  liberty  of  opening  Ernst’s  packets,  extract¬ 
ing  the  contents,  opening  them,  reading  and  photo¬ 
graphing  them,  and  then  sending  them  on  to  the 
rightful  owners.  It  may  have  struck  the  outsider  as 
somewhat  complaisant,  but  for  us  it  possessed  the 
inestimable  advantage  of  giving  into  our  possession 
what  might  be  termed  a  complete  genealogical  tree 
of  the  German  spy  system  in  Great  Britain.  Whether 
the  people  who  received  the  letters  ever  suspected 
anything  remains  doubtful  to  this  day  ;  if  they  did, 
they  gave  no  hint. 

August  4th,  1914,  came  with  its  soul-stirring  events, 
and  the  test  mobilization  of  our  Military  Intelligence 
Department  was  put  into  actual  practice.  The  spy 


8 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

“  tree,”  compiled  with  such  painstaking  care  from 
Ernst’s  letters,  was  felled  to  the  ground.  Instructions 
were  wired  all  round  England  to  chief  constables  to 
arrest  the  spies,  and  of  the  twenty-two  known  to  have 
been  at  large  in  this  country  only  one  escaped,  he 
through  the  port  of  Hull.  No  criminal  proceedings 
were  taken  against  the  arrested  men.  They  were 
brought  to  London,  and  one  by  one  interrogated 
and  thence  placed  in  an  internment  camp  to  await 
a  suitable  opportunity  for  deportation.  It  was  not 
in  the  interests  of  Great  Britain  that  the  breakdown 
of  the  German  spy  system  should  be  known  across 
the  Rhine,  and  although  in  the  course  of  a  few 
weeks  the  enemy  must  inevitably  have  learnt  that 
something  had  happened  to  his  spies,  he  remained  in 
ignorance  long  enough  to  enable  us  to  get  our  Expedi¬ 
tionary  Force  across  the  Channel,  and  have  it  there 
for  seventeen  days  before  he  became  aware  of  its 
presence.  In  preventing  leakage  of  information  we 
were  a  good  deal  more  clever  than  the  Germans  gener¬ 
ally  imagined  :  that  which  we  permitted  to  leak  was 
another  matter. 

The  names  of  the  German  spies  who  were  arrested 
on  the  outbreak  of  war  are  possibly  not  of  any  great 
importance  to-day.  If  they  ever  again  come  to  this 
country  on  the  search  for  naval  and  military  informa¬ 
tion,  it  will  probably  be  with  an  assumed  name, 
allowing  they  are  not  recognized  at  our  ports.  How¬ 
ever,  there  is  no  harm  in  giving  their  names  ;  it  may 
help  to  identify  them  should  they  have  the  temerity 
to  spy  once  more.  They  are  : 

Antonius  J.  F.  Dummenie,  arrested  in  London. 

Karl  Stubenwoll,  ,,  Newcastle. 


A  Clean  Sweep  9 


Karl  Meyer, 

arrested  in  Warwick. 

Johann  Kuhr, 

it 

Newcastle. 

Oscar  Buckwaldt, 

ft 

Brighton. 

Karl  Hemlar, 

ft 

Winchester. 

Friedrich  Apel, 

ft 

Barrow-in- 

Fumess. 

Max  A.  Laurens, 

ft 

London. 

Franz  H.  Losel, 

ft 

Sittingbourne. 

Thomas  Kegnamer, 

ft 

Southampton. 

Adolf  Schneider, 

ft 

London. 

Karl  von  Weller, 

ft 

Padstow. 

Marie  Kronauer, 

ft 

London. 

Celse  Rodrigues, 

ft 

Portsmouth. 

Friedrich  Diederichs, 

ft 

London. 

August  Klunder, 

ft 

London. 

Lina  M.  Heine, 

ft 

Portsmouth. 

Heinrich  Schutte, 

ft 

Weymouth. 

Friedrich  Lukowski, 

ft 

Newcastle. 

Otto  Kruger, 

ft 

Mountain  Ash. 

Johann  A.  Engel, 

ft 

Falmouth. 

From  the  places  where  the  majority  of  these  Ger¬ 
mans  were  captured  by  the  police  one  could  have  little 
difficulty  in  surmising  what  it  was  the  Germans  wanted. 
It  was  naval  information,  and  this  they  thirsted  for 
some  considerable  time  after  the  war  had  been  in 
progress.  It  was  not  until  the  New  Armies  began  to 
land  in  France  in  the  summer  of  1915  that  the  enemy 
awoke  to  the  fact  that  we  had  become  a  power  on  land 
as  well  as  water. 

Under  cross-examination  by  the  officials  most  of 
the  captured  spies  made  no  compunction  of  saving 
their  skins  ;  cheerfully  did  they  tell  of  everything  they 
had  done  in  England  ;  even  more  cheerfully  did  they 
take  their  way  to  an  internment  camp,  there  to  in¬ 
dulge  in  complacent  speculation  about  their  country- 


10 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

men  who  had  fled  to  their  native  land  immediately 
war  was  threatened.  In  the  mind  of  the  average 
Hun  the  safety  of  an  internment  camp  was  much  to 
be  preferred  to  fighting  for  the  Fatherland  on  the 
already  blood-stained  battlefields  of  France  and 
Flanders. 


CHAPTER  II 

August  4,  1914 — Our  organization  to  cope  with  espionage — The 
War  Office  arrangements. 

From  a  counter-espionage  point  of  view  the  war 
caught  us  napping.  It  is  perfectly  true  that  the 
Committee  of  Imperial  Defence  had  previously 
prepared  schemes  ready  for  the  taking  over  of  the 
railways,  a  cable  censorship  evolved  by  Colonel  (now 
General  Sir  Francis)  Davies,  which  in  practice  worked 
so  perfectly  that  throughout  the  war  it  underwent 
no  radical  alteration,  and  plans  for  the  registration 
of  aliens,  all  of  which  were  put  into  operation  im¬ 
mediately  war  was  declared. 

But  there  was  no  ready-made  system  for  dealing 
with  the  large  numbers  of  neutrals  who  came  through 
our  ports,  and  it  was  primarily  owing  to  this  cause 
that  Germany  was  enabled  to  send  many  spies  to  this 
country,  usually  in  the  guise  of  a  commercial  traveller 
of  South  American  or  Dutch  origin.  We  had  no 
means  of  sifting  the  harmless  trader  from  the 
German  agent  who  came  spying  under  the  cloak  of 
commerce.  It  was  much  later  that  the  officer  in 
direct  charge  of  counter-espionage  was  given  the 
opportunity  of  checking  the  ingress  and  egress  of 
“  neutrals  ”  by  keeping  his  own  staff  at  our  ports, 
and  it  was  more  than  a  coincidence  that  from  that 

11' 


12 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

time  onward  we  were  not  so  seriously  troubled  with 
German  spies. 

Another  justifiable  cause  for  complaint  was  the 
non-internment  of  aliens  of  enemy  origin.  It  is  one 
of  the  greatest  mysteries  of  the  war  that  with  32,000 
Germans  in  this  country  no  attempts  at  sabotage 
took  place.  Perhaps  our  vulnerable  points  were  too 
well  guarded ;  perhaps  the  certainty  of  detection 
was  too  great ;  whatever  the  reason  it  is  beyond  all 
doubt  that  we  were  never  subjected  to  sabotage  of 
the  kind  so  common  in  America  in  1915  and  1916. 
I  can  state  without  fear  of  contradiction  that  there 
was  not  a  single  explosion  which  occurred  in  this 
country  which  was  not  ascribable  to  accident.  Our 
casualties  from  this  aspect  of  warfare  were  confined 
entirely  to  explosions  which  were  inevitable  in  the 
manufacture  of  munitions  on  an  immense  scale. 
And  even  the  number  of  fires  which  took  place  was 
much  less  than  in  normal  times. 

Nor  was  it  ever  anticipated  by  the  War  Office  that 
any  postal  censorship  other  than  the  examination  of 
the  correspondence  of  suspected  persons  would  be 
necessary.  It  was  even  thought  that  it  would  not 
be  possible  to  provide  the  requisite  staff,  although 
when  it  became  evident  that  for  counter-espionage 
purposes,  as  well  as  that  of  the  blockade,  it  would 
be  imperative  to  examine  all  correspondence  passing 
through  the  different  war  zones,  the  postal  censorship 
staff  so  increased  that  by  the  time  the  armistice 
was  signed,  on  November  nth,  1918,  it  numbered  over 
four  thousand  people,  which  included  experts  in  every 
language  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  chemists  whose 
sole  duty  it  was  to  detect  the  numerous  invisible 
inks  which  German  spies  were  continually  using,  and 


A  Battle  of  Wits 


13 


men  who  could  unravel  the  most  complicated  cipher 
ever  invented.  We  were  indeed  a  liberal  education 
to  the  Hun ;  as  we  discovered,  so  did  he  evolve 
something  fresh.  It  was  a  battle  of  wits,  in  which 
we  were  certainly  not  worsted. 

Prior  to  the  war,  our  staff  for  the  detection  of  spies 
consisted  of  fourteen  people,  four  officers,  three  de¬ 
tectives  and  seven  clerks.  It  was  small,  certainly, 
but  efficient  enough  judged  in  the  light  of  results. 
But  by  the  time  the  war  had  come  to  a  conclusion  the 
number  of  people  whose  business  it  was  to  counter 
enemy  espionage  had  increased  to  such  an  extent 
that  the  staff  numbered  seven  hundred.  And  this 
not  counting  the  cable  and  postal  censorship,  which 
played  a  most  important  part  in  detecting  corre¬ 
spondence  addressed  by  the  German  Secret  Service 
to  their  chief  spies  in  Great  Britain,  America,  Scan¬ 
dinavia,  Holland,  Spain  and  Switzerland,  and, 
correspondingly,  by  the  spies  to  the  addresses  specially 
provided  for  that  purpose. 

It  had  always  been  recognized  by  the  British 
authorities  that  on  the  outbreak  of  a  European  War 
it  would  be  necessary  to  establish  a  special  depart¬ 
ment  to  deal  with  enemy  activities  of  a  clandestine 
character  outside  the  actual  area  of  military  opera¬ 
tions.  It  was  quite  anticipated  that  some  machinery 
would  have  to  be  created  whereby  we  could  have  a 
Secret  Service,  operating  mainly  on  the  continent  of 
Europe,  a  counter-espionage  department,  the  control 
and,  if  necessary,  internment  of  aliens  of  enemy 
birth,  a  cable  and  postal  censorship,  the  control  of 
the  Press,  the  facilities  to  detect  and  seize  contraband 
of  war.  All  these  matters  had  received  consideration 
in  times  of  peace.  It  was  fully  foreseen  they  would 


14 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

play  a  vitally  important  part  in  any  great  war  we  were 
likely  to  wage.  But  what  was  not  fully  recognized 
was  the  extent  to  which  such  a  department  was 
likely  to  expand.  Perhaps  the  magnitude  of  the  war 
itself,  which  certainly  exceeded  the  expectations  of 
the  Germans,  absolves  our  authorities  from  blame, 
although  it  does  not  do  away  with  the  fact  that  we 
were  in  a  most  lamentable  state  of  unpreparedness 
when  war  came,  and,  indeed,  showed  but  little  inclina¬ 
tion  to  remedy  the  deficiency  until  the  officials  con¬ 
cerned  were  able  to  show  the  Government  that  with¬ 
out  a  department  capable  of  effectively  controlling 
all  enemy  communications  to  and  from  Europe 
our  efforts  at  checking  espionage,  sabotage  and 
trading  abroad  would  be  heavily  hampered.  In  a 
later  chapter  I  will  give  some  indication  of  the  extent 
to  which  we  were  hindered  with  our  postal  censorship 
owing  to  want  of  the  necessary  staff. 

It  would  not  be  correct  to  say  that  we  had  no 
department  which  in  pre-war  days  did  not  concern 
itself  with  matters  outside  the  realm  of  the  armies 
in  the  field.  There  was  what  was  known  as  the  Direc¬ 
torate  of  Military  Operations,  a  War  Office  depart¬ 
ment,  divided  into  five  sections,  two  of  which  dealt 
with  military  intelligence,  the  others  with  strategical, 
geographical  and  special  matters,  the  latter  of  which 
includes  the  subjects  mentioned  in  the  previous 
paragraph  as  awaiting  attention  in  the  event  of  an 
outbreak  of  war. 

By  February,  1915,  the  activities  of  the  Special 
Section  had  become  so  far-reaching,  and  the  size  of  the 
staff  had  grown  so  considerably  (exceeding,  indeed, 
over  six  thousand  people,  and  thus  becoming  the  fifth 
largest  Department  of  State),  that  it  became  neces- 


“  Special  Intelligence  ” 


15 


sary  to  organize  the  section  as  a  self-constituted 
department  under  a  general  officer,  who  had  the 
position  and  authority  of  a  director. 

In  January,  1916,  Lord  Kitchener  decided  to 
reorganize  the  Imperial  General  Staff,  and  for  that 
purpose  brought  back  General  Sir  William  Robertson 
from  France  to  act  as  Chief.  Experience  had  already 
shown  that  the  existing  arrangement  of  the  General 
Staff  was  wholly  unadapted  to  modern  warfare.  The 
Directorate  of  Military  Operations  had  grown  to  un¬ 
manageable  dimensions,  and  it  was  clearly  essential 
that  the  work  should  be  more  evenly  divided.  It 
was  decided  by  the  new  Chief  of  Staff  to  divorce 
questions  of  Operations  from  Military  Intelligence, 
and  a  new  Directorate  of  Military  Operations  was 
formed  out  of  the  old  Strategical  Section,  while  the 
Intelligence  and  Geographical  Sections  became  a  new 
Directorate  of  Military  Intelligence. 

Out  of  the  Special  Section  was  formed  a  depart¬ 
ment  known  as  the  Directorate  of  Special  Intelligence, 
which,  for  some  reason  best  known  to  the  authorities, 
was  made  subordinate  to  the  Directorate  of  Military 
Intelligence.  Considering  that  the  duties  of  the 
director  of  this  former  department  were  largely 
concerned  with  obtaining  information  concerning 
our  naval,  military  and  air  forces,  it  would  have 
seemed  more  fitting  that  the  Director  of  Special 
Intelligence,  who  had  to  serve  all  three,  should  have 
been  given  a  position  somewhat  analogous  to  that  of 
Sir  Maurice  Hankey  in  the  War  Cabinet,  whose  duty 
it  was  to  co-ordinate  the  naval,  military  and  aerial 
policy  of  our  fighting  forces,  and  to  direct  the  com¬ 
bined  operations  of  those  arms  towards  the  common 
goal.  In  exactly  the  same  way  the  Directorate  of 


16 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Special  Intelligence  had  the  task  of  gathering  up  all 
the  loose  ends  which  were  devoting  themselves  to  the 
prevention  of  the  leakage  of  naval  and  military  secrets 
by  such  methods  as  censorship  of  letters  and  cables, 
counter-espionage  and  the  control  of  the  Press.  Even 
had  it  been  found  impracticable  to  place  the  Direc¬ 
torate  of  Special  Intelligence  directly  under  the  War 
Cabinet,  it  should  have  been  possible  to  have  put 
it  on  the  same  plane  as  the  Directorates  of  Military 
Operations  and  Military  Intelligence,  which  were  of 
infinitely  smaller  size  and  probably  less  importance. 

Unfortunately,  however,  the  new  Chief  of  the 
General  Staff,  fresh  back  from  France,  was  probably 
unaware  of  the  extent  to  which  the  work  of  “  Special 
Intelligence  ”  had  grown,  and  from  its  title  possibly 
conceived  it  to  be  merely  a  branch  of  the  Directorate 
of  Military  Intelligence,  which  it  most  certainly  was 
not.  In  any  case,  it  was  clearly  out  of  the  question  for 
the  head  of  the  latter  department  to  have  assumed 
control  of  the  two. 

However,  “  Special  Intelligence  ”  came  into  being 
as  subordinate  to  “  Military  Intelligence.”  The  title 
was  a  most  inappropriate  one,  as  everybody  knew  ; 
but  all  efforts  at  getting  a  more  suitable  one  failed, 
so  the  name  stuck,  and,  indeed,  still  remains. 

The  Director  of  Special  Intelligence  was  Brigadier- 
General  G.  K.  Cockerill,  who  had  assumed  office  in 
September,  1914,  as  head  of  the  Special  Section. 
General  Cockerill  appears  to  have  possessed  all  the 
necessary  qualifications  for  his  onerous  duties.  A 
lifelong  experience  as  an  Intelligence  Officer  in  India, 
a  comprehensive  three  years’  service  in  the  South 
African  War,  in  which  he  was  mainly  engaged  in 
administering  Cape  Colony  under  martial  law,  gave 


Anxious  Times  ahead 


17 


him  the  opportunity  of  knowing  exactly  how  far  it 
was  possible  for  the  military  authorities  to  control  a 
civil  population  in  time  of  war,  without  the  actual 
imposition  of  martial  law.  It  was  General  Cockerill, 
or  lieutenant-colonel  as  he  was  at  the  time,  who  first 
seriously  approached  the  problem  of  obtaining  the 
necessary  powers  to  deal  with  any  possible  contin¬ 
gency  in  time  of  war.  Taught  by  the  experience  of 
the  South  African  War,  he  drafted  a  measure,  the 
purpose  of  which  was  purely  naval  and  military. 
But  as  the  war  went  on  this  measure,  known  as  the 
Defence  of  the  Realm  Act,  or  more  commonly  still  as 
“  Dora,”  became  a  political  weapon.  “  Dora  ”  lost  the 
dignity  of  passing  through  the  House  of  Commons  :  she 
became  “  Regulation,”  and  could  be  added  to  by  an 
Order  in  Council,  passed  by  a  little  group  of  officials 
sitting  in  the  War  Office.  Her  name  became  a  byword 
throughout  the  country — but  she  never  lost  her  power. 

There  were  many  important  problems  for  the  new 
Directorate  to  tackle.  First  and  foremost  was  that  of 
countering  the  efforts  of  enemy  spies  in  Great  Britain. 
For  obvious  reasons  it  is  not  possible  to  give  the  name 
of  the  very  gallant  officer  who  was  responsible  to  the 
Director  of  Special  Intelligence  for  this  work  ;  but  it 
is  sufficient  to  say  that  he  was  exceedingly  successful, 
and  received  the  reward  of  merit  not  long  ago  with 
a  well-deserved  knighthood.  Serving  under  this  officer 
were  five  others,  whose  respective  duties  all  had  as 
their  ultimate  object  the  detection  of  suspected 
enemy  agents.  There  were  dozens  of  ways  by  which 
spies  could  be  caught,  and  whether  it  was  through 
information  supplied  by  our  agents  in  a  neutral  capital, 
or  from  a  haul  made  by  boarding  officers  from  a  ship 
brought  into  one  of  our  ports,  or  an  intercepted 


2 


18 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

message,  it  was  all  co-ordinated  effort  which  had  to 
be  grouped  into  clearly  defined  sections,  each  under 
the  charge  of  an  officer. 

On  a  very  small  scale,  our  counter-espionage  depart¬ 
ment  was  brought  into  existence  in  1909  for  the 
express  purpose  of  defeating  the  spy  system  which 
the  Germans  were  then  endeavouring  to  create  in  Great 
Britain.  For  two  years  the  efforts  of  the  department 
were  hampered  by  it  being  impossible  to  convict  a 
spy  unless  he  were  caught  with  the  evidence  of  guilt  in 
his  possession.  In  1911,  however,  the  Official  Secrets 
Act  was  passed,  and,  as  a  result,  we  were  enabled  to 
expose  many  of  the  ramifications  of  the  German 
Secret  Service  in  this  country,  and  convict  the  spies 
responsible. 

In  addition  to  checking  the  activities  of  spies,  our 
counter-espionage  department  was  also  charged  with 
the  initiation  of  measures  for  the  control  of  aliens  and 
of  the  civil  population  during  the  war,  in  so  far  as  it 
concerned  the  revealing  of  information  likely  to  assist 
the  enemy.  It  was  quite  obvious  that  unwittingly  the 
public  and  Press  might  give  information  of  enormous 
value  to  our  adversaries.  The  proper  method  was  to 
prevent  such  information  leaking  out.  This  was 
carried  out  with  a  good  deal  of  success,  if  the  examples 
of  the  landing  of  our  Expeditionary  Force  in  France, 
the  withdrawal  from  Gallipoli,  or  the  manufacture 
of  the  Tanks  are  to  be  regarded  as  any  criterion. 

The  counter-espionage  section,  to  give  it  its  proper 
title,  consisted  of  five  sub-sections,  as  follows  : 

I.  For  the  prevention  of  espionage  and  the  control 
of  aliens  and  undesirables,  in  consultation  with 
the  Home  Office. 


Counter-Espionage  19 

2.  The  detention  of  espionage  and  the  punishment 

of  enemy  agents,  in  close  touch  with  Scotland 
Yard. 

3.  The  control  and  examination  at  ports  and  frontiers 

of  civilian  passenger  traffic  in  transit  to  and 
from  zones  of  military  operations. 

4.  The  co-ordination  of  Imperial  counter-espionage, 

correspondence  with  Dominions  and  Colonies 
and  special  measures  for  countering  espionage 
and  sedition  in  the  Far  East. 

5.  The  examination  of  the  credentials  of  aliens 

seeking  employment  in  connection  with  any 
form  of  war  service  which  would  offer  special 
opportunities  for  hostile  activities,  especially 
Red  Cross  and  munition  work. 

It  was  the  counter-espionage  section  which  was 
responsible  for  the  travelling  restrictions  which  made 
passages  to  and  from  the  Continent  so  difficult. 
Naturally,  travelling  was  discouraged  as  much  as 
possible  ;  it  was  no  part  of  our  policy  to  create  endless 
trouble  for  ourselves  by  permitting  more  or  less  un¬ 
restricted  intercourse.  Nor  did  our  Allies  desire  it. 
One  had  only  to  watch  the  boatloads  which  came  into 
Havre  and  Southampton  during  the  war  to  judge  of 
the  dangerous  possibilities  from  an  espionage  point  of 
view. 

Everything  which  could  possibly  lead  to  the  detec¬ 
tion  of  spies  was  brought  into  being.  Measures  were 
adopted  for  keeping  a  close  watch  on  well-known 
spies,  while  in  Paris  there  was  established  what  was 
known  as  the  Bureau  Central  Inter-Allie,  which  was 
entrusted  with  the  exchange  of  information  between 
the  Allies  in  regard  to  suspected  persons  and  other 

2* 


20 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

matters  under  the  aegis  of  the  Directorate  of  Special 
Intelligence.  Whatever  the  Germans  may  have 
thought  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  they  were  pos¬ 
sessed  of  no  doubt  towards  the  end  that  our  Intelli¬ 
gence  methods  were  no  whit  inferior  to  theirs. 

From  August,  1914,  our  counter-espionage  section 
brought  to  justice  over  thirty  German  spies.  Twelve 
of  these  were  executed,  eleven  being  shot  and  one 
hanged.  One  committed  suicide  when  conviction  was 
inevitable,  six  were  sentenced  to  death  and  had  their 
penalty  commuted  to  penal  servitude,  while  another 
six  received  varying  sentences  of  imprisonment.  In 
addition,  there  were  dozens  of  spies  interned  for  want 
of  evidence  likely  to  convict  them,  mainly  people  taken 
off  boats  who  had  not  actually  landed  in  this  country, 
and  who  therefore  could  not  be  tried  under  our  laws. 
In  no  case  did  we  shoot  a  female  spy,  although  there 
were  several  who  richly  deserved  that  fate. 

*  #  *  *  *  * 

It  must  not  be  thought  that  “  Special  Intelligence  ” 
concerned  itself  entirely  with  counter-espionage. 
That  was  the  primary  object  of  the  Directorate’s 
existence  certainly,  but  there  were  other  sections 
whose  work  was  of  almost  equal  importance.  There 
was  the  cable  censorship  controlled  by  Colonel  A.  G. 
Churchill  until  January,  1918,  when  Colonel  Lord 
Arthur  Browne  succeeded  him,  which  exercised  a 
dominating  influence  on  Germany’s  efforts  to  obtain 
supplies  from  abroad,  and,  incidentally,  was  responsible 
for  most  of  the  proceedings  which  took  place  in  our 
Prize  Courts. 

The  postal  censorship,  under  Lieut. -Colonel  G.  S.  H. 
Pearson,  opened  millions  of  letters,  played  havoc  with 


A  Widespread  Organization  21 

enemy  correspondence  to  Germans  abroad,  and  was 
directly  responsible  for  the  detection  of  many  of  the 
spies.  Our  command  of  the  seas  gave  us  wonderful 
opportunities  for  sending  Germans  abroad  propaganda 
leaflets  of  a  type  which  brought  a  reply  from  a  Hun 
in  a  foreign  country — also  through  our  postal  censor¬ 
ship — saying  that  he  had  read  through  the  leaflets 
sent  him,  and  that  they  were  magnificent — until  he 
began  to  read  on,  when  doubt  entered  his  mind  whether 
the  leaflets  had  not  actually  come  from  the  accursed 
British. 

In  addition  to  the  two  censorships  there  was  a 
propaganda  and  counter-propaganda  section,  under 
the  command  of  Lieut. -Colonel  J.  L.  Fisher.  Some 
of  the  stories  of  how  we  fooled  the  Hun  make  reading 
too  rich  to  be  lost  in  oblivion.  Ludendorff,  in  his 
recently  published  Memoirs,  refers  continually  in 
the  most  acrimonious  fashion  to  the  evil  effects  of  our 
propaganda.  He  seems  to  imagine  we  were  unscru¬ 
pulous,  a  comment  which,  coming  from  a  German,  is 
perhaps  the  best  joke  of  all. 

Another  section  was  that  under  Major  G.  L.  Hoare, 
which  concerned  itself  with  the  restriction  of  enemy 
supplies,  military  international  law,  and  the  provision 
of  personnel  for  our  Intelligence  Corps.  Although 
under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Director  of  Special  Intel¬ 
ligence,  it  had  little  to  do  with  counter-espionage  and, 
therefore,  I  do  not  propose  to  deal  with  it. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  new  Directorate  in  all  its 
different  sections  had  exceedingly  important  duties 
to  carry  out,  and  that  the  process  of  expansion  would 
alone  entail  endless  worry.  It  was  not  all  done  in  a 
day,  as  may  be  imagined.  We  learnt  as  we  went  along, 
and  the  Hun  himself  taught  us  a  good  deal.  So  fast 


22 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

as  we  outwitted  him  did  he  evolve  something  new, 
although  towards  the  end  there  were  indications  that 
he  was  growing  tired.  All  the  spies  he  sent  to  this 
country  were  entrusted  amongst  other  things  with  the 
task  of  ascertaining  the  state  of  our  moral,  indubitable 
proof  that  his  own  was  fast  declining.  It  is  very 
certain  that  any  information  the  Hun  did  get  on  this 
score — particularly  regarding  food — far  from  reassured 
him.  His  agents  always  managed  to  live  well  in  this 
country,  if  only  for  the  fact  that  they  never  knew 
when  another  enjoyable  meal  would  come  their  way. 

Naturally,  our  Intelligence  methods  were  not  in 
anything  approaching  a  state  of  perfection  when  the 
curtain  was  rung  up  on  the  tremendous  drama  which 
followed  our  declaration  of  war  on  August  4th,  1914. 
We  had  broken  up  the  German  spy  system  in  Great 
Britain  a  week  after  that  date,  and  were  waiting  for 
the  first  of  the  players  in  the  new  drama  to  make  his 
appearance. 


CHAPTER  III 

An  execution  in  the  Tower  of  London — Carl  Hans  Lody — His  last 
words  and  letters — Anthony  Kiipferle — His  amazing  confession 
and  suicide. 

The  dawn  of  a  chill  autumn  morning  in  the  Tower 
of  London.  Heavy  grey  mists  come  swirling  up  from 
the  river  outside,  clothing  the  whitened  walls  of  the 
Tower  with  a  gargantuan  shroud.  The  all-pervading 
stillness  received  but  an  occasional  disturbance  from 
the  mournful  echo  of  a  ship’s  siren  as  the  vessel  felt 
her  way  down  the  river. 

Inside  the  Tower  the  birth  of  day  had  been  re¬ 
sponsible  for  a  great  burst  of  activity.  Troops  were 
bestirring,  and  from  their  grave  demeanour  it  was 
easy  to  surmise  that  matters  of  moment  were  about 
to  be  decided.  And  indeed  they  were.  For  the  first 
time  in  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  the  Tower  of 
London  was  about  to  witness  a  sight,  common  enough 
in  its  earlier  history,  rare  enough  in  these  prosaic  days 
of  prisons  and  hangings  :  the  execution  of  a  prisoner 
of  State.  To  be  more  precise,  it  was  the  execution  of 
a  German  spy. 

The  preparations  were  soon  completed.  A  chair 
was  placed  in  a  small  hall  used  as  a  miniature  rifle  range, 
and  the  firing  party,  eight  stalwart  guardsmen,  were 
marched  in  with  a  sergeant  at  their  head,  and  sharply 
came  to  a  position  of  ease,  awaiting  the  coming  of  the 

23 


24 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

condemned  man.  Seasoned  soldiers  to  a  man,  the 
task  of  shooting  a  fellow  being  in  cold  blood  had  never 
yet  fallen  to  their  lot.  Curious  glances  were  cast  at 
the  chair  which  so  soon  was  to  hold  a  dead  body, 
and  one  could  sense  an  uncomfortable,  half-ashamed 
atmosphere  reflected  in  the  faces  of  the  men.  Almost 
could  one  hear  them  whispering  that  they  would  be 
glad  when  the  job  was  over. 

There  was  a  bustle  at  the  door,  and  the  spy,  escorted 
by  two  men  of  the  military  police,  clad  only  in  his 
shirt  and  trousers,  came  in.  An  intelligent  looking 
man,  who  walked  with  upright  head,  he  bore  himself 
bravely,  and  was  apparently  going  to  his  doom  with  a 
composure  which  could  only  come  of  a  long  recognition 
of  the  inevitable  fate  of  spies.  At  the  order  of  the 
sergeant-major  superintending  matters  he  seated 
himself  in  the  fatal  chair,  and  suffered  his  limbs  to  be 
bound  without  protest.  But  the  offer  of  a  bandage 
was  refused.  As  he  had  gone  through  the  career  of 
a  spy  with  open  eyes,  so  would  he  die.  The  hand¬ 
kerchief  was  gently  waved  aside  and  the  sergeant- 
major  did  not  persist.  Instead,  he  leant  over  the 
spy,  bared  his  breast  to  the  cold  morning  air,  and 
stepped  clear,  awaiting  the  last  scene. 

“  Are  you  all  ready,  Sergeant-Major  ?  ”  asked  the 
officer  in  charge.  “  All  ready,  sir,”  came  back  the 
reply.  An  order  to  the  firing  party,  and  eight  rifles 
were  aimed  at  the  condemned  man’s  chest.  He  did 
not  flinch,  merely  watching  curiously  some  of  the 
men  whose  distaste  for  the  job  was  plainly  evident. 
One  last  look  at  the  spy  and  the  officer  in  charge  raised 
his  stick,  then  suddenly  brought  it  down.  He  was 
answered  by  a  burst  of  red  flame  and  a  crash  which 
went  echoing  throughout  the  Tower.  The  figure  in 


Carl  Hans  Lody  25 

the  chair  gave  one  great  convulsive  shudder  and  then 
fell  forward  limp  and  bloody. 

****** 

Carl  Hans  Lody  was  the  first  spy  to  be  executed  in 
the  Tower  of  London  since  the  time  of  George  III. 
He  was  also  probably  the  most  favourable  specimen 
of  a  German  agent  with  whom  we  had  to  deal  during 
the  war,  for  there  is  no  doubt  that  his  motives  were 
purely  patriotic.  On  those  grounds  there  was  some 
talk  of  his  death  sentence  being  commuted  to  penal 
servitude  for  life  ;  but  when  the  proposal  was  brought 
before  the  head  of  the  counter-espionage  section  it 
received  the  strongest  possible  refusal.  It  was  argued, 
with  excellent  reason,  that  the  execution  of  a  spy  and 
the  public  announcement  thereof  would  have  a  most 
deterrent  effect  on  future  German  spies  who  might  be 
thinking  of  coming  to  this  country.  This  finally 
decided  the  matter,  and  Lody  paid  the  supreme  penalty 
on  Friday,  November  6th,  1914.  He  met  his  death  with¬ 
out  flinching,  and  on  the  morning  of  his  execution, 
when  the  Assistant  Provost-Marshal  came  to  his  cell 
to  tell  him  his  time  had  come,  he  said,  rather  wist¬ 
fully,  “  I  suppose  you  will  not  care  to  shake  hands 
with  a  German  spy  ?  ”  “  No,  I  would  not,”  said  the 

A.P.M.,  “  but  I  will  shake  hands  with  a  brave  man,” 
and  so  Carl  Lody  died. 

Of  all  the  impossible  tasks  with  which  any  war 
historian  is  confronted,  that  of  analysing  the  mental 
psychology  of  a  spy  is  the  worst.  There  are  patriotic 
spies  and  hireling  spies  :  it  was  the  latter  type  which 
predominated  amongst  the  German  agents  who  came 
to  this  country  during  the  war.  Nearly  all  of  neutral 
origin,  they  came  into  the  game  for  what  they  could 


26 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

make  out  of  it,  and  the  inevitable  conclusion  one 
came  to  was  that  they  had  very  little  conception  of 
the  odds  against  them.  There  were  Peruvians, 
Brazilians,  Uruguayans,  German-Americans,  Irish¬ 
men,  Dutchmen,  Scandinavians  and  Spaniards.  When 
captured  and  interrogated  they  behaved  with  the 
characteristics  common  to  their  race.  The  Dutchman 
and  the  Scandinavian  would  preserve  a  sullen  indiffer¬ 
ence  to  everything,  answering  questions  reluctantly, 
and  making  desperate  endeavours  to  avoid  committing 
themselves. 

Not  so  the  South  Americans  :  with  the  charming 
insouciance  of  the  Latin  they  would  answer  any  and 
every  question — too  readily,  in  fact.  But  they  were 
permitted  to  go  on  until  such  time  as  their  information 
became  nothing  but  a  mass  of  contradictions — when 
they  would  cheerfully  own  up  to  lying.  The  German- 
American  would  be  indignant,  threatening  his  interro¬ 
gator  with  all  the  pains  and  penalties  of  international 
law — until  confronted  with  the  evidence  of  his  guilt, 
when  he  would  lapse  into  glowering  silence.  The 
German  lied — continued  lying — until  his  forged  pass¬ 
port  and  secret  ink  messages  were  produced,  when 
he,  too,  would  see  that  the  game  was  up,  and  would 
accordingly  relapse  into  silence. 

There  was  one  spy  who  broke  down  badly  under 
the  relentless  cross-examination.  As  he  was  asked 
a  question,  so  would  he  reply  and  then  ask  :  “  Can 
you  tell  me  if  this  means  death  ?  ”  “I  cannot  say,” 
his  interrogator  would  answer.  So  it  went  on  for  half 
an  hour.  Every  time  the  spy  replied  to  a  damaging 
question  he  would  ask  if  it  meant  death  to  him.  At 
last  his  interrogator  grew  curious,  and  asked  :  “  Why 
is  it  you  want  to  know  ?  ”  The  spy  whose  nerves 


The  Kaiser’s  Man 


27 


were  rapidly  approaching  a  state  of  collapse,  burst 
into  tears  and,  holding  his  hands  over  his  face,  sobbed  : 
“  I  have  an  aged  mother  in  Stettin,  and  would  like 
to  provide  for  her  before  I  die.” 

It  could  not  be  said  of  Carl  Lody  that  he  gave  his 
cross-examiners  any  assistance  when  taken  to  Scot¬ 
land  Yard.  He  was  a  professional  spy,  whose  appoint¬ 
ment  had  been  specially  approved  by  the  Kaiser, 
and  although  he  made  a  great  mystery  of  the  fact 
right  up  to  the  time  of  his  death,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  he  was  sent  on  a  special  mission  with  the  know¬ 
ledge  of  his  Emperor  so  soon  as  it  became  evident  that 
we  had  for  the  time  being  wiped  out  the  German  spy 
system  in  Great  Britain. 

Lody’s  past  history  made  him  eminently  suitable 
for  the  precarious  post.  About  fifty  years  of  age, 
he  was  one  of  those  cosmopolitan  Germans  who  find 
employment  all  over  the  world.  He  spoke  excellent 
English — with  an  American  accent,  it  is  true — by 
virtue  of  long  residence  in  the  United  States.  About 
the  year  1900  he  had  been  a  lieutenant  in  the  German 
Navy,  but  resigned  owing  to  lack  of  means,  and  was 
posted  to  the  Reserve  of  Officers.  Afterwards  he 
entered  the  employment  of  the  Hamburg-Amerika 
Steamship  Line  as  a  tourist  guide.  In  that  capacity 
he  travelled  all  over  England,  and  was  well  known  in 
London.  At  one  time  he  attempted  to  enter  the 
employ  of  Thomas  Cook  and  Son  ;  but  that  firm,  being 
rather  suspicious  of  his  bona  tides,  did  not  engage  him. 
Lody  returned  to  Berlin  from  a  Norwegian  tour  a  few 
days  before  August  4th,  1914,  ready  to  take  up  his 
duties  of  spy.  It  was  necessary  to  obtain  him  a 
passport  which  would  protect  him  in  the  projected 
masquerade  of  an  American  citizen,  and  the  manner 


28 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

by  which  this  was  brought  about  was  typically 
German.  There  was  staying  in  Berlin  at  that  time 
an  American  named  Charles  A.  Inglis,  who  had  made 
application  to  his  embassy  for  a  passport  to  be  vised 
to  enable  him  to  continue  travelling  in  Europe. 
This  had  been  duly  granted,  and  had  been  passed 
on  to  the  German  Foreign  Office  for  vise  purposes. 
There  it  disappeared.  Carl  Hans  Lody  had  become 
Mr.  Charles  A.  Inglis.  The  latter’s  photograph 
had  been  removed  and  that  of  Lody  substituted. 
It  was  an  excellent  ruse  in  its  way,  for  hundreds 
of  Americans  were  pouring  out  of  Germany  at  the 
time. 

The  spy’s  next  appearance  was  in  Scotland,  where 
he  first  stayed  at  the  North  British  Station  Hotel, 
Edinburgh.  From  there  he  sent  a  telegram  to  one 
Adolf  Burchard  in  Stockholm  which  aroused  the 
suspicion  of  the  authorities,  and  from  that  time 
onward  he  was  a  marked  man.  Apparently  recog¬ 
nizing  that  hotels  were  dangerous  places  for  spies, 
Lody  took  private  lodgings,  and  with  a  bicycle  spent 
a  fortnight  searching  for  places  of  naval  interest 
around  Edinburgh.  He  cycled  a  good  deal  around 
Rosyth  and  aroused  more  than  common  curiosity 
by  the  questions  he  asked.  To  his  landlady  he  was 
merely  an  American  sightseer,  a  role  borne  out  by  his 
strong  American  accent.  From  Edinburgh  he  came 
to  London,  staying  at  a  Bloomsbury  hotel,  still  in  the 
guise  of  an  American  tourist.  Lody  took  the  greatest 
interest  in  our  anti-aircraft  defences :  the  cover¬ 
ing  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament,  Buckingham  Palace, 
the  Bank  of  England,  and  other  places  with  strong 
wire  netting  being  duly  reported  by  him  to  Stock¬ 
holm.  But,  unfortunately  for  Lody,  the  messages 


29 


Lody  becomes  frightened 

were  being  intercepted.  Even  at  that  early  stage  of 
the  war  our  postal  censorship  was  in  fair  working 
order. 

After  two  days  in  London  Lody  returned  to  Edin¬ 
burgh,  unsuspicious  that  his  every  movement  was 
under  observation.  On  September  26th  he  left  the 
Scottish  capital  and  journeyed  to  Liverpool,  where 
the  business  of  fitting  out  our  big  ocean  liners  as 
auxiliary  cruisers  was  in  full  preparation.  The  spy 
used  his  technical  knowledge  to  the  full  here,  and  made 
it  the  subject  of  a  subsequent  communication  to  the 
German  Secret  Service  in  Berlin.  From  Liverpool  he 
went  to  Holyhead,  there  to  take  boat  for  Ireland.  A 
challenge  of  his  identity  brought  him  a  momentary 
blanching  of  the  cheek,  but  he  was  permitted  to  land, 
and  went  to  the  Gresham  Hotel,  Dublin,  a  great  resort 
of  Americans  visiting  Ireland,  where  he  wrote  a  letter 
to  Burchard,  which  shows  that  he  was  beginning  to 
get  frightened. 

“  As  I  mentioned  in  my  last  letter  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  for  me  to  disappear  for  some  time,  because 
several  people  have  approached  me  in  a  disagreeable 
manner.  This  has  happened  not  to  me  only,  but  to 
several  other  Americans,  who  have  told  me  they  are 
watched.  Fear  of  espionage  is  very  great,  and  one 
meets  a  spy  in  every  stranger.  I  chose  the  route 
Liverpool-Holyhead-Dublin  on  purpose  in  order  to 
make  observations.” 

I  may  here  remark  that  of  all  the  spies  who  came 
to  England  Carl  Lody  was  easily  the  worst  equipped. 
He  wrote  all  his  letters  to  Sweden  quite  openly,  in 
both  English  and  German,  using  ordinary  long-hand, 
and  never  even  utilized  an  invisible  ink,  however 


30 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

simple,  which  might  have  afforded  his  communications 
some  slight  prospect  of  passing  the  censor’s  eagle  eye. 
Most  of  the  information  he  sent  to  his  employers  was 
of  comparatively  little  value,  even  allowing  that  it 
reached  them,  which  it  did  not.  Lody  even  fell  into 
the  trap  of  sending  that  famous  story  of  the  Russian 
troops  passing  through  England,  describing  with  a 
wealth  of  detail  how  huge,  bearded  men,  with  the  snow 
of  the  steppes  still  clinging  to  their  boots,  were  landing 
by  thousands  to  ultimately  take  up  their  position  on 
the  Western  Front  and  so  check  the  advance  of  the 
victorious  German  armies.  We  permitted  that  item 
of  “  news  ”  to  go  through,  but  how  far  it  affected  the 
enemy  plans  we  shall  never  know  ;  it  certainly  caused 
a  great  deal  of  perturbation  to  the  German  General 
Staff. 

Lody  went  on  to  describe  what  he  had  seen  in  his 
travels  :  the  armament  of  ships,  our  defences  on  the 
Firth  of  Forth  and  around  Rosyth,  and  details  as  to 
Zeppelin  bombardments.  From  Dublin,  after  writing 
this  letter,  he  travelled  to  Killarney,  presumably  on 
his  way  to  Queenstown.  Apparently  the  authorities 
had  decided  it  was  time  to  arrest  him,  for  at  that  place 
on  October  2nd  he  was  detained  by  the  Royal  Irish 
Constabulary  to  await  the  arrival  of  detectives  from 
Scotland  Yard.  In  his  kit-bag  was  found  the  forged 
passport,  £145  in  Bank  of  England  notes,  £30  in 
English  gold,  some  German  gold  and  Norwegian  notes, 
and  a  note-book  with  particulars  of  the  naval  fight 
in  the  North  Sea  which  had  occurred  a  few  weeks 
previously,  addresses  in  Berlin,  Stockholm,  Bergen 
and  Hamburg,  and  copies  of  his  four  communications 
to  the  man  Burchard  in  Stockholm.  That  evidence 
alone  was  sufficient  to  have  condemned  him. 


Trial  and  Condemnation 


31 


After  his  arrest  Lody  was  brought  to  London,  and 
was  tried  by  court-martial  at  the  Guildhall,  West¬ 
minster,  on  October  30th  and  the  day  following, 
Lord  Cheylesmore  presiding.  In  a  well-cut  blue 
serge  suit  he  stood  in  the  dock  looking  more  clerk 
than  spy,  with  flushed,  clean-shaven  face  and  deep, 
bespectacled  eyes,  betraying  the  closest  interest  in 
the  proceedings. 

Lody’s  counsel  did  not  dispute  the  evidence  against 
him,  and  stated  to  the  court  that  his  client  simply 
represented  one  who  had  done  his  duty  and  leaves 
the  consequences  entirely  in  their  hands.  His  grand¬ 
father  had  been  a  great  soldier  who  had  held  a  fortress 
against  Napoleon,  and  it  was  in  that  spirit  that  he 
wished  to  stand  before  his  judges  that  day.  He  did 
not  wish  to  cringe  for  mercy,  and  was  not  ashamed 
of  anything  he  had  done,  and  would  accept  the  decision 
of  the  court — whatever  it  might  be — as  the  decision 
of  just  and  righteous  men. 

The  accused  man  was  found  guilty  and  sentenced 
to  death,  the  execution  taking  place  five  days  later. 

Before  he  died  Lody  was  permitted  to  write  a  letter 
to  his  relatives  in  Stuttgart,  as  follows  : 

“  My  dear  Ones, 

“  I  have  trusted  in  God  and  He  has  decided. 
My  hour  has  come,  and  I  must  start  on  the  journey 
through  the  Dark  Valley  like  so  many  of  my  comrades 
in  this  terrible  war  of  nations.  May  my  life  be 
honoured  as  a  humble  offering  on  the  altar  of  the 
Fatherland. 

“  A  hero’s  death  on  the  battlefield  is  certainly  finer, 
but  such  is  not  to  be  my  lot,  and  I  die  here  in  the 
enemy’s  country,  silent  and  unknown.  But  the  con- 


32  German  Spies  at  Bay 

sciousness  that  I  die  in  the  service  of  the  Fatherland 
makes  death  easy. 

“  The  supreme  court-martial  of  London  has  sen¬ 
tenced  me  to  death  for  military  conspiracy.  To¬ 
morrow  I  shall  be  shot  here  in  the  Tower.  I  have 
had  just  judges,  and  I  shall  die  as  an  officer,  not  as 
a  spy. 

“  Farewell.  God  bless  you. 

“  Hans." 

He  also  wrote  a  letter  to  his  guard,  as  follows  : 

“  London,  November  5th,  1914. 

“  Tower  of  London. 

“To  the  Commanding  Officer  of  the 
3rd  Battalion  Grenadier  Guards, 

Wellington  Barracks. 

“  Sir, 

“  I  feel  it  my  duty  as  a  German  officer  to  express 
my  sincere  thanks  and  appreciation  towards  the  staff 
of  officers  and  men  who  were  in  charge  of  my  person 
during  my  confinement. 

“  Their  kind  and  considered  treatment  has  called 
my  highest  esteem  and  admiration  as  regards  good 
fellowship  even  towards  the  enemy,  and  if  I  may 
be  permitted,  I  would  thank  you  for  make  this  known 
to  them. 

“  I  am  Sir,  with  profound  respect, 

“  (Sd.)  Carl  Hans  Lody, 

Senior  Lieutenant  Imperial 
German  Naval  Res.  iid.” 

Lody  left  a  ring  to  be  forwarded  to  a  lady  in 
America,  which  was  duly  sent  and  acknowledged.  It 


Anthony  Kiipferle  33 

is  understood  that,  following  the  usual  practice  with 
their  spies,  the  German  Government  had  insured 
Lody’s  life  for  £ 3,000 ,  this  sum  going  to  his  relatives. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  his  character  was  a  fine  one. 
His  demeanour  evoked  the  keenest  admiration  from 
all  who  came  in  contact  with  him,  and  his  death  was 
a  matter  of  regret  even  to  those  people  to  whom  the 
name  of  a  spy  is  anathema.  A  few  months  afterwards, 
when  his  end  had  become  known  in  Germany,  he 
became  something  of  a  national  hero,  and  the  towns¬ 
people  of  his  native  village  planted  an  oak,  to  be 
known  for  evermore  as  the  “  Lody.” 

****** 

Of  the  numerous  tragedies  and  comedies  associated 
with  the  trapping  of  enemy  agents  none  was  more 
typical  of  the  spy  drama  of  fiction  than  the  case  of 
Anthony  Kiipferle,  alias  Copperlee,  an  ex-non-com- 
missioned  officer  of  the  German  Army  who  came  to 
England  from  America,  ostensibly  as  a  traveller  of 
Dutch  extraction  with  business  as  a  woollen  mer¬ 
chant.  Here  was  the  German  spy  of  the  fiction 
writer :  stiff,  upstanding  hair,  round  spectacles,  a 
painfully  assumed  American  accent,  and  an  even 
more  painful  determination  to  let  everybody  know 
that  he  was  an  American  citizen. 

And  Kiipferle’s  brief  stay  in  this  country,  his 
shadowing  by  the  police,  his  trial  at  the  Old  Bailey 
before  a  gorgeously  caparisoned  court,  with  the  Lord 
Chief  Justice  of  England  in  his  ermine  supported  by 
two  other  judges,  all  three  reverting  to  the  ancient 
custom  of  carrying  a  bouquet  of  flowers  that  the  offen¬ 
sive  odours  of  the  Court  might  not  oppress  them, 
and  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London  in  his  scarlet  robes 

3 


34 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

of  office,  followed  by  equally  gorgeous  aldermen  and 
sheriffs,  were  more  in  keeping  with  the  stage  than  the 
trial  of  a  spy  for  his  life. 

And  then  the  last  scene  of  all :  the  dramatic  suicide 
of  the  spy  in  his  prison  cell  following  the  first  day  of 
his  trial,  and  the  pathetic  message  he  left  on  his  prison 
slate,  in  which  he  confessed  to  being  tired  of  per¬ 
juring  himself,  and  died  affirming  his  loyalty  to  his 
Fatherland. 

Kiipferle,  who  was  born  in  Germany,  but  had  been 
taken  to  the  United  States  at  the  age  of  nine  and 
educated  there,  served  on  the  Western  front  in  the 
early  days  of  the  war.  Presumably  he  had  been 
sent  back  to  America  for  espionage  purposes,  and, 
although  never  at  any  time  a  member  of  the  Secret 
Service,  he  so  pestered  the  egregious  von  Papen,  then 
acting  in  conjunction  with  Captain  Boy-ed  and  Count 
Bernstorff  in  plotting  against  Great  Britain,  that  his 
wish  to  do  something  for  the  Fatherland  was  acceded 
to.  Accordingly,  arrangements  were  made  for  him 
to  obtain  a  passport,  the  raison  d’etre  of  which  was 
commercial  business  in  England.  This  pretence  was 
simplified  by  his  previous  career  in  America,  where, 
until  going  bankrupt,  he  traded  as  a  woollen  merchant 
in  Brooklyn  under  the  name  of  Kiipferle  and  Co.  The 
passport  was  obtained  on  January  25th,  1915,  and 
on  February  4th  the  spy  sailed  from  New  York  as  a 
third-class  passenger  in  the  White  Star  liner  Arabic. 
The  passage  across  was  not  marked  by  any  untoward 
incident  except  that  Kiipferle  took  occasion  to  inform 
all  and  sundry  that  he  was  an  American  citizen  with 
business  in  England.  He  was  quite  an  artless  indivi¬ 
dual,  and  apparently  imagined  that  his  frankness 
would  disguise  the  real  purpose  of  his  visit. 


35 


Messages  in  Secret  Ink 

On  Sunday,  February  14th,  he  arrived  in  Liverpool, 
and  from  that  date  until  five  days  later  our  counter¬ 
espionage  department  was  busily  engaged  in  collecting 
evidence  against  him.  Suspicion  was  first  aroused  by 
a  letter  written  to  an  address  in  Holland,  which  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  events  was  opened  by  the  postal 
censorship  in  London.  On  the  face  of  it  the  com¬ 
munication  was  harmless  enough.  It  merely  informed 
his  correspondent  that  he  had  arrived  in  Liverpool, 
and  intended  travelling  on  to  London  to  do  business 
on  the  morrow.  At  the  end  of  the  week  he  hoped 
to  arrive  in  Rotterdam.  It  looked  innocent  enough, 
the  only  remarkable  feature  being  that  it  said  abso¬ 
lutely  nothing.  But  the  keen  eyes  of  a  woman  in  the 
postal  censorship  had  detected  something  else  :  that 
was  the  trace  of  an  invisible  ink  between  the  lines. 
A  re-agent  was  sought,  and,  sure  enough,  there 
appeared  in  brown  letters  a  message  of  much  more 
significance.  It  was  nothing  more  or  less  than  a 
description  of  the  war  vessels  which  the  writer  had 
seen  in  his  trip  across  the  Atlantic.  The  letter  con¬ 
cluded  with  the  words  “  morgen  (to-morrow)  in 
Dublin,”  which  showed  that  whatever  else  might 
happen  he  was  not  coming  to  London  as  he  said. 

Kiipferle  went  to  Dublin.  There  he  stayed  until 
Wednesday  morning  and  came  back  through  Holy- 
head,  arriving  at  Euston  the  same  night.  From  there 
he  wrote  to  his  employers  in  Holland,  asking  them  to 
send  him  a  little  money,  as  he  was  short  of  cash,  and 
was  held  up  by  the  damned  "  U  ”  boats,  the  so-called 
intensified  “  U-boat  ”  campaign  having  been  started 
at  that  time.  As  a  matter  of  fact  this  had  no  real 
effect  on  his  leaving  the  country  as,  “  U-boat  ”  cam¬ 
paign  or  not,  he  had  been  earmarked  for  arrest  at 

3* 


36 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Folkestone,  if  and  when  he  should  arrive  there  on 
his  way  to  Holland.  By  this  time  he  was  under  close 
observation,  and  when  he  changed  his  hotel  at  Euston 
to  one  at  Victoria  he  managed  to  escape  arrest  by 
about  ten  minutes,  although  unaware  of  that  fact. 
He  was  found  by  the  police  the  following  day,  and 
was  informed  that  he  was  suspected  of  espionage. 
On  being  taken  to  Scotland  Yard  and  searched  he 
was  found  to  be  in  possession  of  letter-paper  similar 
to  that  traced  from  Liverpool.  But  there  was  some¬ 
thing  more  in  the  bag.  It  contained  two  lemons, 
one  of  which  had  already  been  cut,  and  a  bottle  of 
formalin  labelled,  “  L.  Friesch,  Deutsche  apothecary, 
Brooklyn,  New  York.”  And  in  his  vest  pocket,  if 
further  evidence  were  needed,  was  a  pen  with  traces  of 
lemon  juice  still  adhering  to  the  nib.  Here  were  all 
the  materials  for  invisible  writing — crude  possibly, 
but  efficacious  enough  in  their  way. 

There  is  not  a  great  deal  more  to  tell  of  Anthony 
Kiipferle.  After  interrogation  at  Scotland  Yard, 
where,  incidentally,  he  lied  so  badly  and  acted  the 
stupid  Prussian  so  well  that  he  stood  convicted  before 
he  left  the  room,  he  was  taken  to  Brixton  Prison,  there 
to  await  trial  at  the  Old  Bailey.  After  some  con¬ 
siderable  trouble  the  authorities  persuaded  counsel 
to  appear  for  him,  as  he  was  being  tried  for  his  life, 
Sir  Ernest,  then  Mr.,  Wild,  K.C.,  reluctantly  taking 
the  brief.  Awaiting  trial  at  the  same  time  were  two 
other  German  spies,  Muller  and  Hahn. 

Sir  John  Simon,  then  Attorney-General,  appeared 
for  the  prosecution,  and  gave  a  full  description  of  the 
prisoner’s  activities.  Kiipferle  stood  in  the  dock 
dressed  in  a  black  frock-coat,  buttoned  tightly  across 
the  chest,  his  cold,  pale  blue  eyes  following  the  pro- 


A  Dramatic  Suicide 


37 


eeedings  with  the  closest  attention.  There  was  prac¬ 
tically  no  defence,  and  when  the  court  adjourned  until 
the  morrow  it  was  palpable  that,  barring  a  miracle, 
his  life  was  forfeit. 

****** 

There  was  never  a  second  day  of  the  great  spy  trial. 
The  morning  after,  when  everyone  in  Brixton  Prison 
was  sound  asleep,  a  muffled  rapping  could  be  heard  in 
the  cell  where  the  chief  warder,  Herbert  Bell,  was 
sleeping,  in  order  that  he  should  be  close  to  the  spy 
who  was  then  under  trial.  Bell  had  no  idea  what  the 
persistent  noise  signified,  but  thinking  it  wiser  to 
investigate,  hastily  donned  his  clothes  with  a  view  to 
finding  out.  He  had  hardly  finished  dressing  when 
there  burst  into  the  cell  the  night  warder,  whose  duty 
it  was  to  watch  Kiipferle.  Greatly  agitated,  the 
night  warder  told  Bell  he  could  not  see  the  spy  in  his 
cell.  Together  the  two  men  hastened  to  the  cell, 
and  there  saw  a  sight  that  drove  their  blood  cold.  It 
was  that  of  Kiipferle  hanging  on  the  wall,  a  silk 
muffler  suspending  him  from  the  grating  which,  high 
up  on  the  wall,  gave  ventilation  to  the  cell.  A  heavy 
book  supplied  to  the  prisoner  from  the  library  was 
under  his  feet ;  it  had  apparently  been  utilized  for 
the  purpose  of  enabling  him  to  reach  the  ventilator, 
and  then,  when  he  had  fastened  the  muffler  round  his 
neck,  kicked  from  under  him.  The  body,  still  warm, 
was  cut  down  immediately,  and  the  two  men,  sum¬ 
moning  the  prison  doctor,  made  strenuous  efforts  to 
restore  life  by  artificial  respiration.  It  was  all  in  vain  ; 
the  spy  had  cheated  his  captors,  although  he  had  given 
himself  the  end  he  dreaded  more  than  any  other — 
death  by  hanging. 


38  German  Spies  at  Bay 

When  the  cell  came  to  be  searched  there  was 
found  written  on  the  slate  allowed  to  prisoners  an 
amazing  message.  The  handwriting  was  educated  and 
firm  ;  there  was  little  or  no  trace  of  the  mental 
struggle  which  the  spy  must  have  suffered  before 
making  up  his  mind  to  take  his  own  life. 

"To  whom  it  may  concern! 

"  My  name  is  Kupfcrle,  nee  to  (born  in)  Sollingen, 
Rastatt  I/B  (Baden).  I  am  a  soldier  with  rank  I  do 
not  desire  to  mention,  in  regard  to  my  behalf  lately  I 
can  say  that  I  have  had  a  fair  trial  of  the  U  Kingdom, 
but  I  am  unable  to  stand  the  strain  any  longer  and  take 
the  law  in  my  own  hands.  I  fought  many  a  battles, 
and  death  is  only  a  saviour  for  me. 

"  I  would  have  preferred  the  death  to  be  shot,  but  don’t 
wish  to  ascend  the  scaffold,  as — (here  follows  a  Masonic 
sign).  I  hope  the  Allmighty  Architect  of  this  Universe 
will  lead  me  into  the  Unknown  Land  in  the  East.  I  am 
not  dying  as  a  spy,  but  as  a  soldier  ;  my  fate  I  stood  as 
a  man,  but  can’t  be  a  liar  and  perjur  myself.  Kindly 
I  shall  permit  to  ask  to  notify  my  uncle,  Ambros  Broil, 
Sollingen,  Rastatt,  Germany,  and  all  my  estate  shall  go 
to  him. 

"  What  I  done,  I  have  done  for  my  country.  I  shall 
express  my  thanks,  and  may  the  Lord  bless  you  all. 

“  Yours, 

(Signed)  “Anton  Kupferle.” 

On  the  back  of  the  slate  was  written  : 

“  My  age  is  31  years  and  I  am  born  June  11,  1883.” 


Anthony  Kiipferle  and  the  message  lie  wrote  on  his  prison  slate. 


[ To  face  p.  38 . 


A  Prison  Letter 


89 


The  dead  man  was  buried  in  Streatham  Park  Ceme¬ 
tery,  where  his  body  lies  in  a  nameless  grave.  In 
the  early  days  of  the  war  he  had  fought  on  the  Western 
Front,  and  bore  on  his  face  the  marks  of  a  violent  blow, 
caused,  it  is  believed,  by  the  butt-end  of  a  rifle. 
Whether  this  was  a  specimen  of  German  military  dis¬ 
cipline  or  as  the  result  of  an  encounter  with  French 
or  British  troops  was  never  ascertained.  While  in 
Brixton  Prison  he  wrote  a  letter  to  another  spy 
awaiting  trial  which  was  confiscated  by  the  authorities 
and  runs  as  follows  : 

“  Dear  Friend, 

“  After  my  study  to-day  I  cannot  refrain  from 
writing  a  few  words  again.  Here  is  the  true  appear¬ 
ance  of  that  deceitful  friendship  (referring  to  our 
declaration,  for  obvious  reasons,  that  Belgian  paper 
currency  was  then  worthless).  The  English  refuse 
credit  to  her  so-called  best  friend ;  so  I  suppose  the 
fact  that  Belgium  is  now  in  our  hands  has  nothing  to 
do  with  the  state  of  things. 

“  I  believe  Ypres  and  neighbourhood  have  now 
fallen.  If  I  could  only  see  the  day  when  the  whole 
British  trickery  is  exposed,  England’s  shame  must 
be  made  known,  otherwise  there  can  be  no  justice. 
Oh,  if  I  could  only  be  at  the  Front  again  for  half 
an  hour ! 

“  That  is  my  sole  remaining  wish.  I  shall  not  admit 
or  say  I  am  a  soldier,  or  that  I  know  anything  about 
military  matters. 

“  Our  cavalry  has  been  heard  of  in  Russia  for  the 
first  time.  Of  course,  the  cavalry  has  been  used  for 
infantry  service.  Reports  have  been  made  by  cycle 
and  telephone,  and  the  latter  is  of  greater  importance. 


40  German  Spies  at  Bay 

The  gas  must  have  a  great  effect,  and  be  distasteful 
to  the  English.  In  any  case,  it  is  a  stupefying  death, 
and  makes  them  first  vomit  like  sea-sickness.  It  is 
an  easy  death,  and  if  the  war  lasts  for  some  time  many 
more  will  be  killed  by  it !  ” 

L 

A  true  reflex  of  Prussian  mentality,  if  nothing  else, 
those  last  three  sentences. 


CHAPTER  IV 


Spy  mania  in  Great  Britain — Karl  Frederick  Muller  and  Peter 
Hahn — How  we  trapped  the  most  important  spy  of  the  war 
— The  astonishing  story  of  Robert  Rosenthal. 

“  Spy  mania  ”  afflicts  all  nations  in  time  of  war,  and 
in  saying  that  we  in  Great  Britain  suffered  from  the 
complaint  quite  as  badly  as  any  of  our  Continental 
neighbours  I  am  not  guilty  of  the  slightest  exaggera¬ 
tion. 

Who  has  not  heard  of  the  thousands  of  German 
waiters,  all  of  whom  were  spies,  anxiously  waiting 
for  “  Der  Tag  ”  ?  Where  is  the  man  or  woman  who 
did  not  know  a  German  who  had  a  concrete  gun  plat¬ 
form  built  in  his  back  garden  ?  It  never  seemed  to 
occur  to  these  individuals  that  the  Germans  could 
use  our  concrete  pavements  much  more  easily. 

Now  it  is  very  painful  to  destroy  so  many  fond 
illusions,  but  the  cold  fact  remains  that  on  the  out¬ 
break  of  war  the  German  waiters  in  this  country 
did  only  one  thing  ;  that  was  to  throw  down  their 
table  napkins  and  make  a  bee  line  for  the  Rotterdam 
boat  which  sailed  from  Harwich.  In  fact,  it  was  a 
race  between  them  and  the  police  as  to  who  should 
reach  Harwich  first.  In  nearly  every  case,  however, 
the  police  won,  so  that  the  majority  of  our  one-time 
waiters  spent  the  period  of  the  war  in  the  comparative 
security  of  an  internment  camp. 

And  who,  at  one  time  or  another,  did  not  know 

4i 


42 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

of  a  fashionable  restaurant  patronized  by  naval  and 
military  staff  officers  where  German  spies,  disguised 
as  harmless  waiters,  were  always  found  to  be  standing 
at  the  back  of  the  officers’  chairs,  carefully  gleaning 
the  conversation  which  was  taking  place  ?  Where 
was  the  man  who  could  not  tell  you,  with  a  wealth 
of  dramatic  detail,  how  he  had  suddenly  turned  to 
his  Swiss  waiter  and  asked,  “  What  is  your  station  ?  ” 
And  pat  would  come  the  reply,  “  Chatham.” 

Innumerable  were  the  complaints  the  guardians 
of  the  law  received  concerning  waiters  known  to  be 
in  possession  of  plans  of  the  defences  of  London, 
pieces  of  paper  which  on  investigation  proved  to  be 
plans  of  the  dining-room  to  which  the  waiter  had  been 
newly-promoted.  It  was  all  very  amusing  in  a  way, 
although  it  caused  immense  inconvenience  to  an 
already  overworked  police. 

But  perhaps  the  biggest  myth  of  all  was  that  of 
signalling.  The  number  of  people  who  were  reported 
to  the  police  as  signalling  to  Zeppelins  ran  into  thou¬ 
sands  :  in  practically  every  instance  the  culprit  was 
either  a  careless  servant  girl  or  a  blind  flapping  in  the 
breeze.  Countless  also  were  the  cases  reported  of 
Germans  said  to  be  signalling  to  each  other  across 
a  street.  Apparently  it  never  entered  the  heads  of 
these  people  that  if  two  Germans  wished  to  commu¬ 
nicate  with  each  other  they  would  adopt  the  simple 
and  infinitely  safer  method  of  walking  across  the 
street  and  give  their  message  by  word  of  mouth. 

Things  were  even  worse  on  the  coast.  Submarines 
were  being  signalled  to  by  the  thousand  :  our  seaside 
towns  were  full  of  German  spies,  male  and  female. 
The  sober  truth  of  the  matter  is  that  never  during 
the  course  of  the  war  was  any  attempt  discovered  to 


Air  Raid  Aftermaths 


43 


communicate  with  German  vessels  from  a  coastal 
town.  The  people  who  made  the  complaints  rarely 
stopped  to  think  that  with  the  postal  censorship  then 
in  existence  it  was  next  to  impossible  to  get  letters 
to  or  from  Germany.  And  it  may  be  said  on  behalf 
of  the  German  Secret  Service  that  it  never  indulged 
in  such  painfully  crude  methods. 

Zeppelin  and  aeroplane  raids  were  always  respon¬ 
sible  for  an  aftermath  of  spy  scares  which  could  never 
be  proved  to  have  any  substance  in  fact.  There  was 
an  unfortunate  individual  from  whose  house  a  light 
had  been  seen  on  the  night  of  a  particular  raid,  re¬ 
ported  to  the  authorities  as  having  been  seen  sig¬ 
nalling  to  the  enemy,  who  was  raided  first  by  the 
Competent  Military  Authority,  then  by  the  police, 
and,  lastly,  by  the  naval  authorities,  who  drew  a 
cordon  round  the  house,  and  then  sent  a  bluejacket 
to  swarm  up  the  balcony  and  seize  the  culprit  in  the 
act. 

There  were  spies  in  every  military  camp ;  not  a 
week  passed  without  an  enemy  agent  being  shot — 
according  to  common  report.  A  famous  airman  was 
shot  in  the  Tower  of  London  as  a  German  spy,  although, 
unfortunately  for  that  tale,  he  still  manages  to  fly. 
Perhaps  he  possesses  a  dual  existence.  Enemy  ciphers 
existed  in  certain  newspaper  advertisements ;  the 
country  was  full  of  big  advertising  signs  which  had 
directions  to  German  troops  concealed  on  the  back. 
We  could  not  send  out  our  own  officials  testing  tele¬ 
graphs  without  having  them  arrested  by  a  zealous 
local  constabulary.  There  were  wireless  plants  on 
the  top  of  almost  every  house,  the  owners  of  which 
were  signalling  to  the  German  naval  bases,  to  sub¬ 
marines,  to  Berlin — everywhere,  in  fact.  Heaven 


44 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

alone  knows  the  trouble  it  involved  in  investigating  ; 
we  had  “  spy  mania  ”  very  badly  in  those  days. 

The  spirit  was  quite  a  praiseworthy  one,  but  there 
was  really  no  need  for  it  all,  as  the  subsequent  chapters 
of  this  book  will  show. 

****** 

In  the  early  part  of  1915,  the  time  when  “  spy 
mania  ”  was  at  its  fullest,  the  authorities  were  able 
to  lay  by  the  heels  a  man  who  was  probably  the  most 
important  spy,  individually,  who  came  our  way  during 
the  war.  His  name  was  Karl  Frederick  Muller. 

Although  we  had  no  means  of  gauging  the  particular 
value  placed  by  the  Germans  on  their  spies,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  Muller  was  an  agent  whose  arrest 
and  condemnation  had  far-reaching  effects  on  the 
enemy’s  espionage  plans  in  this  country.  Muller’s 
great  asset — from  the  German  point  of  view — lay  in 
the  fact  that  he  had  lived  in  Great  Britain  for  some 
years  prior  to  the  outbreak  of  war ;  that  he  passed 
without  suspicion  as  a  Russian  from  the  Baltic  Pro¬ 
vinces,  and  that  he  could  travel  all  round  the  country 
without  being  in  the  least  suspected.  It  is  more  than 
possible  that,  had  he  been  permitted  to  carry  on  his 
machinations  unmolested,  he  would  have  become  the 
head  and  shoulders  of  as  effective  a  spy  organization 
as  could  have  been  found  in  the  whole  of  Europe. 
About  the  middle  of  February,  some  few  days  after 
the  arrest  of  Anthony  Kiipferle,  the  officials  of  the 
Postal  Censorship  entrusted  with  the  task  of  examining 
all  correspondence  to  Holland,  at  that  time  strongly 
suspect  owing  to  the  presence  of  a  spy  school  in 
Rotterdam,  came  across  a  letter  which  seemed  to 
require  further  investigation.  There  was  nothing 
particularly  suspicious  about  the  letter  itself.  It 


45 


A  Drama  of  Deptford 

contained  the  usual  effusive  wishes  for  the  health  of 
the  addressee,  was  plentifully  interlarded  with  kisses, 
and  was  remarkable  chiefly  for  the  fact  that  the 
addressee  was  someone  in  Rotterdam  of  whom  we  were 
suspicious.  The  writer  of  the  letter  was  “  L.  Cohen,” 
and  the  address  he  gave  was  22,  High  Street,  Deptford. 
But  on  investigation  at  that  particular  place  no  such 
person  as  “  L.  Cohen  ”  had  ever  been  heard  of.  Just 
about  that  period  of  the  war  we  were  beginning  to 
get  out  counter-espionage  on  something  like  an  efficient 
basis.  Letters  which  said  really  nothing  worth  saying 
and  which  contained  false  clues  as  to  the  sender  were 
naturally  regarded  as  being  the  medium  of  some  secret 
communication,  and  were  sent,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
to  be  treated  for  messages  written  in  invisible  ink. 

Those  were  the  happy  days  when  the  Germans  were 
equipping  their  spies  with  so-called  secret  inks  which 
a  child  could  discover.  One  had  only  to  pass  a  hot 
flat-iron  over  the  letter,  when  the  hidden  message 
would  be  revealed  for  all  the  world  to  see.  So  an 
iron  was  heated  in  that  branch  of  the  Postal  Censor¬ 
ship  which  concerned  itself  with  such  matters,  and, 
hey,  presto  !  out  came  as  pretty  a  mass  of  information 
as  any  enemy  could  desire  to  possess.  There  were 
certain  divisions  of  the  New  Armies  training  at  Aider- 
shot  which  would  cross  the  Channel  before  long,  cer¬ 
tain  ships  building  on  the  Clyde  which  would  be  a 
grave  menace  to  the  German  submarines,  and  remarks 
to  the  effect  that  the  moral  of  the  people  was  poor,  and 
that  the  recruiting  for  Lord  Kitchener’s  armies  had 
died  away  to  nothing. 

It  was  plainly  evident  that  we  had  come  across  a 
German  spy  of  some  importance.  Unfortunately, 
we  could  obtain  no  immediate  clue  which  would  assist 


46 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

us.  All  we  could  do  for  the  time  being  was  to  send 
over  to  Rotterdam,  where  it  was  addressed,  and 
find  out  who  was  to  be  the  medium  of  this  interesting 
communication.  Much  as  expected,  it  was  the  resi¬ 
dence  of  a  man  strongly  suspected  of  being  connected 
with  the  enemy’s  Secret  Service.  However,  nothing 
could  be  done ;  we  could  only  sit  down  and  wait  for 
something  definite. 

Weeks  passed  by.  Two  or  three  more  letters  from 
the  same  individual  were  intercepted,  and  from  their 
tone  the  writer  was  getting  decidedly  angry.  “  How 
do  you  expect  me  to  get  you  valuable  information  if 
you  do  not  send  me  money  ?  ”  he  kept  asking.  “  I 
am  sending  you  news  which  is  of  enormous  value,  and 
am  daily  in  peril  of  my  life.”  Whether  the  recipient 
of  those  expostulations  replied  to  the  angry  one  by 
means  which  escaped  our  notice  we  could  not  tell ; 
but  for  quite  a  month  no  clue  which  would  enable  us 
to  capture  the  spy  could  be  obtained  in  any  way. 

Luck  turned  at  last.  One  day  the  Postal  Censorship 
people,  by  then  keenly  alert  for  anything  addressed 
to  the  master  spy  in  Rotterdam,  came  across  a  letter, 
which,  on  being  treated  for  invisible  ink,  showed  at 
the  bottom  a  postscript  which  was  to  end  all  our 
troubles.  The  message  was  quite  short,  but  none  the 
less  effective.  “  C.  has  gone  to  Newcastle,  so  I  am 
writing  this  from  201  instead.” 

The  postmark  on  the  envelope  was  again  Deptford, 
and  201  was  palpably  the  number  of  a  street.  No¬ 
body  who  knows  the  East  End  of  London  will  deny 
that  the  number  of  streets  in  that  part  of  the  world 
which  carry  No.  201  on  the  doors  is  very  small  indeed. 
So  the  officials  at  Scotland  Yard  who  had  been  re¬ 
quested  to  look  into  the  matter,  telephoned  to  the 


“Who  is  G  ? 


47 


police  station  at  Deptford  asking  what  streets  in  that 
district  carried  a  number  201.  After  a  short  search 
Scotland  Yard  was  informed  that  High  Street  was 
the  only  one,  and  that  the  occupant  was  one  Peter 
Hahn,  baker  and  confectioner.  Hahn  was  a  name 
calling  aloud  for  investigation  under  such  cir¬ 
cumstances. 

A  little  party  of  police  from  Scotland  Yard  were 
requisitioned,  and  went  down  to  Deptford,  where  Hahn, 
a  stout  young  man,  was  found  serving  bread  behind 
the  counter  of  his  shop.  Terror  leapt  into  his  eyes  as 
the  police  came  in,  to  be  accentuated  as  he  was  told 
that  he  would  be  taken  to  Scotland  Yard  to  be 
examined  on  suspicion  of  being  a  German  spy.  While 
waiting  to  take  him  away  some  of  the  police  made  a 
search  of  a  back  room,  where,  much  as  they  expected, 
they  found  a  complete  kit  for  writing  in  secret  ink. 
There  was  the  ink,  special  paper,  wool  and  ammonia, 
neatly  stowed  away  in  a  cardboard  box.  But  of  the 
actual  spy  himself  no  trace  could  be  found. 

“  Who  is  C.P  ”  we  asked  Hahn. 

“I  do  not  know  anything  about  him,”  was  the 
sullen  answer. 

“  Oh,  yes,  you  do,”  said  the  official  in  charge.  “You 
have  told  someone  he  has  gone  to  Newcastle.” 

“  Well,  find  him  yourself,  if  you  can,”  was  Hahn’s 
parting  shot,  as  he  was  taken  away  in  a  cab. 

That  was  exactly  what  the  police  intended  to  do. 
For  some  hours  afterwards  they  conducted  a  weariless 
investigation  among  the  cosmopolitan  crowd  in  the 
neighbourhood  and  ultimately  found  a  woman  who 
remembered  a  tall  Russian  gentleman  who  visited 
Hahn  regularly.  His  name  was  thought  to  be  Muller 
and  his  address  somewhere  in  Russell  Square.  To 


48 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Bloomsbury  the  officials  made  their  way  and  started 
a  search  of  every  lodging-house  register  in  the  vicinity. 
Luck  again  attended  their  efforts.  The  name  of  one 
Muller  was  found  in  a  certain  boarding  house  and  the 
landlady  fully  corroborated  the  statement  that  he  was  a 
Russian.  “  But  he  is  not  here  just  now,”  she  added. 
“  He  has  gone  to  Newcastle  to  see  some  friends.” 
After  a  little  pressing  the  landlady  gave  us  the  address. 

Up  to  Newcastle  the  trail  was  carried  the  following 
morning  and  sure  enough  we  found  the  long-wanted 
spy.  He  proved  to  be  a  tall,  worried-looking  individual, 
with  a  perpetual  frown.  When  told  that  he  was 
suspected  of  being  a  German  spy  he  turned  white  with 
anger  and  for  just  a  moment  showed  fight.  But  the 
police  speedily  dissuaded  him  from  that  idea,  and 
Muller  calmed  down,  saying  :  “  Oh,  well,  I  can  explain 
all  this  when  I  get  to  London.  You  are  making  a 
mistake,  my  good  gentlemen.  I  am  a  Russian  subject 
and  hate  all  Germans.” 

On  arrival  at  Scotland  Yard  Muller  denied  every¬ 
thing.  He  had  never  seen  Hahn,  never  been  in 
Germany,  could  not  speak  the  language  and  most 
certainly  was  not  a  German  spy.  After  about  half 
an  hour  of  these  lies  his  interrogator  produced  a  letter 
from  underneath  a  pile.  “  Have  you  ever  seen  this  ?  ” 
he  asked,  starting  to  read  it  to  Muller,  who  thereupon 
relapsed  into  silence. 

The  subsequent  investigations  into  the  past  histories 
of  Muller  and  Hahn  proved  to  us  that  we  had  broken 
up  what  might  have  become  an  exceedingly  dangerous 
conspiracy.  Muller,  who  spoke  English  with  a  hardly 
perceptible  accent,  had  been  many  things  before,  and 
none  of  them  long.  He  was  one  of  those  roaming 
Germans  who  are  hotel-keeper  in  one  country,  com- 


Karl  Frederick  Muller. 


\_Tj  face  p.  48.i 


An  Accomplished  Agent  49 

mercial  traveller  in  another.  At  one  time  of  his 
career  he  had  been  a  check-weigher  of  cargoes  at 
Hamburg,  at  another  an  agent  for  a  firm  of  motor-car 
manufacturers.  We  also  found  that  he  had  gone 
through  the  usual  routine  of  spies,  the  love-making  to 
impressionable  young  women,  the  fulsome  promises 
of  wealth  to  come  and  talk  of  many  friends  in  high 
places.  But  he  never  seemed  to  have  told  anyone 
that  all  these  highly-placed  friends  were  in  Germany. 
Muller  had  been  in  England  prior  to  the  war  and  evi¬ 
dently  was  of  too  great  importance  to  be  included 
amongst  the  spies  who  received  their  instructions 
through  the  man  Ernst,  whom  I  have  referred  to  in  a 
previous  chapter.  In  his  character  of  a  Russian  he 
had  managed  to  escape  internment,  and  but  for  the 
interception  of  the  letter  to  Rotterdam  there  is  little 
doubt  that  he  might  have  continued  to  send  informa¬ 
tion  to  Germany  for  a  considerable  time.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  he  possessed  some  claim  to  be  a  Russian,  for 
he  had  been  born  in  Libau  in  1857,  and  spoke  Russian, 
Flemish,  Dutch,  French,  German  and  English  fluently. 
For  purely  espionage  purposes  he  was  certainly  a  much 
more  valuable  spy  than  Lody,  although  the  latter, 
owing  to  his  being  the  first  German  agent  captured 
during  the  war,  was  then,  and  still  is,  regarded  by  many 
English  people  as  the  principal  German  spy  who  came 
to  this  country. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  that  Hahn  was  merely  the 
tool  of  the  older  man.  The  proprietor  of  a  small  bakery 
business  in  Deptford,  which  he  started  in  1910,  he  was 
the  son  of  a  naturalized  German,  who  at  that  time 
was  living  in  Germany.  He  himself  had  been  born  in 
Battersea  and  does  not  seem  to  have  prospered  in  his 
affairs,  for  in  1913  he  passed  through  the  Bankruptcy 

4 


50 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Court,  with  assets  of  £3  as  an  offset  to  liabilities 
of  £1,800,  an  excellent  example  of  the  manner  in 
which  many  tradespeople  of  German  origin  have 
been  able  in  the  past  to  live  on  their  trusting  British 
creditors.  His  motives  in  turning  spy  may  possibly 
have  been  patriotic :  more  probably  they  were 
entirely  mercenary,  if  his  past  record  was  any  cri¬ 
terion.  There  appears  no  reason  to  doubt  that 
Muller  had  communicated  a  certain  amount  of  informa¬ 
tion  to  Germany,  although  naturally  we  were  not  given 
the  possibility  of  ascertaining  what  it  was.  But  one 
thing  was  quite  certain.  It  would  not  do  to  try 
Muller  and  Hahn  in  public.  Apart  from  the  enemy 
thus  becoming  acquainted  with  the  fate  of  two  of  his 
spies,  we  had  other  plans  in  view.  As  in  the  case  of 
Kiipferle,  we  had  found  it  profitable  to  keep  the 
arrest  of  a  spy  secret  for  a  few  months. 

As  a  naturalized  British  subject  Hahn  had  the 
right  to  be  tried  by  a  civil  court,  so  together  he  and 
Muller  faced  the  civic  authorities  at  the  Old  Bailey 
in  May,  1915.  The  evidence  was  clear  enough  :  letters 
written  in  invisible  ink  giving  information  of  our 
military  preparations,  demands  for  money,  and  letters 
from  Rotterdam  which  had  been  retained  by  the 
postal  censorship.  Muller  was  found  guilty  of  es¬ 
pionage  in  the  first  degree  and  sentenced  to  be  shot, 
while  Hahn,  who  throughout  the  trial  protested  that 
he  was  acting  under  orders,  was  given  seven  years’ 
penal  servitude.  Muller  appealed  against  his  sentence, 
but  the  appeal  was  rejected. 

On  J une  23rd,  1915,  Muller  was  executed  in  the  Tower 
of  London,  he  being  the  second  spy  to  suffer  the 
extreme  penalty  of  the  law  since  war  had  been  de¬ 
clared.  He  was  removed  from  Brixton  Prison  to  the 


51 


The  Last  Night 

Tower  the  day  before  his  execution.  Two  taxi¬ 
cabs  had  been  hired  for  the  purpose,  one  for  the 
assistant  provost-marshal,  the  other  for  the  spy 
and  his  escort.  While  proceeding  through  Upper 
Thames  Street  on  the  way  to  the  Tower  the  cab 
containing  Muller  broke  down.  It  was  the  luncheon 
hour  of  the  busy  city  and  the  streets  were  thronged 
with  people.  Inevitably  a  big  crowd  gathered  round 
the  disabled  cab,  where  the  sight  of  an  obvious-looking 
foreigner,  seated  between  two  military  policemen, 
together  with  the  proximity  of  the  Tower,  quickly 
brought  the  situation  to  the  minds  of  the  onlookers. 
Cries  of  “  German  spy  ”  went  ringing  up  and  down 
the  crowded  street,  and  the  guardians  of  the  spy  had 
an  anxious  few  minutes  before  another  cab  could 
be  procured. 

The  condemned  man  broke  down  badly  the  night 
before  his  execution.  All  through  the  long  hours 
his  guards  could  hear  him  sobbing  for  his  wife  and 
children,  all  forgetful  of  the  evil  he  had  done.  He 
recovered  his  self-possession  a  little  when  the  fatal 
call  came  with  the  dawn,  and  was  led  forth  into  the 
miniature  rifle  range,  where  nothing  would  satisfy 
him  but  to  shake  hands  with  the  firing  party.  After 
some  little  hesitation  his  wishes  were  acceded  to,  and 
he  solemnly  went  up  and  down  the  line  of  men  waiting 
with  rested  rifles,  shaking  hands  one  by  one,  telling 
them  he  bore  no  animosity  for  the  duty  they  had 
to  carry  out.  Then  he  was  placed  in  the  chair  and 
blindfolded  and  went  to  his  death,  if  not  exactly  with 
composure,  at  least  with  a  certain  resigned  courage 
which  redeemed  him  in  the  eyes  of  the  world. 

That,  however,  was  not  the  end  of  Muller.  The 
numerous  letters  he  had  been  writing  to  Holland 

4* 


52 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

had  begun  to  bear  fruit  while  he  was  in  prison.  Answers 
were  coming  at  last,  enclosing  the  long-desired  money 
and  asking  for  further  information  on  certain  points. 
Who  shall  blame  us,  therefore,  if  we  acceded  to  the 
request.  We  were  employing  officials  who  were  able 
to  produce  more  than  a  respectable  imitation  of 
anybody’s  handwriting,  so  what  more  natural  than  that 
we  should  continue  Muller’s  correspondence  for  him  ? 
And  we  certainly  earned  the  money  the  spy  agency 
paid  us  for  our  information.  It  was  “  important  ” 
to  the  last  degree. 

It  is  to  be  feared,  however,  that  the  Great  General 
Staff  in  Berlin  began  to  grow  sceptical  as  to  its 
genuineness,  for  after  a  time  Rotterdam  commenced 
to  grow  angry.  The  Iron  Cross  which  we  were 
within  an  ace  of  earning  gradually  vanished  into  the 
ewigkeit,  and  finally  Rotterdam  grew  so  suspicious 
that  they  would  not  write  to  “  Mr.  Muller”  at  all. 
So  very  reluctantly  we  were  forced  to  conclude  that 
the  Huns  had  heard  of  his  death.  It  was  a  merry 
game  while  it  lasted,  and  reflected  infinite  credit  on 
the  people  responsible.  Some  day,  perhaps,  a  candid 
German,  if  such  exists,  will  tell  the  world  how  the 
British  Intelligence  Service  spoofed  them  and  what 
it  cost  them. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

It  is  a  fact  well-known  in  official  circles  in  this 
country  that  many  German  spies  were  recruited  from 
the  criminal  classes,  who  were  either  released  from 
gaol  on  condition  that  they  undertook  espionage 
abroad,  or  were  given  a  merely  nominal  sentence  with 
the  same  object  in  view. 


Typical  Enemy  Methods  53 

There  is — or  was — a  certain  juge  d' instruction  in 
Berlin  who  during  the  war  recruited  a  great  many 
spies  by  this  method.  When  a  prisoner  was  brought 
before  him  for  interrogation,  as  is  the  custom  in  most 
Continental  countries,  this  individual  would  carefully 
consider  the  accused  man,  and  if  of  the  opinion  that  he 
would  make  a  suitable  spy,  would  make  him  the  follow¬ 
ing  proposition  :  that  on  condition  of  his  entering 
the  German  Secret  Service  the  prosecution  would  not 
press  the  case  against  him.  He  would  get  a  nominal 
sentence,  and  would  be  released  after  a  few  days. 
After  that  he  would  be  required  to  report  to  the 
authorities,  who  would  give  him  instructions  as  to 
his  new  duties. 

Quite  a  number  of  these  individuals  came  to  England, 
their  disguise  almost  invariably  being  that  of  com¬ 
mercial  travellers.  They  were  vendors  of  coal,  of 
pudding  powders,  cocoa,  anything  which  the  Dutch 
might  have  for  export.  Their  real  business  was  that 
of  gathering  information  from  our  naval  ports.  It  is 
questionable,  indeed,  if  they  ever  got  anything  of 
value  :  foreigners  who  wandered  around  places  such 
as  Portsmouth,  Chatham  and  Dover  in  1915  were  apt 
to  be  unpopular,  and  were  either  promptly  interned  or 
else  deported  before  they  had  time  to  discover  anything. 

In  the  early  months  of  that  year  one  of  these  in¬ 
dividuals  came  to  England  and  the  manner  of  his 
capture  is  still  so  inexplicable  that  the  incident  is 
worth  relating  in  detail. 

Going  through  a  postal  bag  which  came  from  Den¬ 
mark,  an  official  of  our  postal  censorship  one  day  came 
across  a  letter  addressed  from  Copenhagen  to  Berlin. 
Apparently  a  mistake  had  been  made,  but  never¬ 
theless  we  had  no  scruples  in  seeing  what  the  letter 


54 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

contained.  Anything  addressed  to  Berlin  was  natur¬ 
ally  of  interest  to  us  in  such  troublous  times.  Judge 
of  the  surprise  of  the  officials  who  translated  the  letter 
— written  in  German — when  it  proved  to  contain  a 
statement  from  one  Rosenthal  to  a  spy  agency  in  the 
Prussian  capital,  stating  that  his  preparations  for 
travelling  to  England  were  complete,  and  that  under 
the  guise  of  a  traveller  in  patent  cigar-lighters  he  was 
about  to  leave  for  these  shores.  We  sat  up  and  took 
notice,  to  put  the  matter  quite  mildly. 

What  rather  discounted  the  authenticity  of  the 
information  was  the  date  of  the  communication,  which 
was  some  few  weeks  old.  The  only  thing  to  do  was 
to  warn  the  passport  officials  to  keep  a  strict  look-out 
for  a  foreigner,  nationality  unknown,  who  might  be 
selling  cigar-lighters. 

Never  did  we  have  greater  luck  :  never  did  the 
long  arm  of  coincidence  get  a  bigger  stretch.  Only  a 
few  hours  after  the  telegrams  had  been  dispatched  a 
message  was  received  from  the  port  officials  at  Newcastle 
that  a  young  man  who  corresponded  to  the  description 
was  found  on  board  a  steamer  waiting  to  sail  for 
Copenhagen.  That  was  on  May  nth. 

Officers  were  sent  from  Scotland  Yard  to  bring  the 
young  man  to  London  to  be  examined.  All  the  way 
down  in  the  train  the  prisoner,  a  Jew  of  undefinable 
nationality,  kept  calling  Heaven  and  earth  to  bear 
witness  to  his  innocence,  and  invoking  the  justice  of 
the  land  for  the  punishment  of  his  traducers.  This 
tone  he  maintained  until  his  arrival  at  Scotland  Yard, 
when  he  was  asked  to  explain  his  movements  for  the 
past  few  weeks.  He  denied  everything,  denied  ever 
having  lived  in  the  Danish  capital,  disclaimed  all 
knowledge  of  anything  or  anybody  German.  But  then 


Robert  Rosenthali' 


[ To  face  p.  64. 


A  Startling  Confession  55 

came  the  denouement,  one  worthy  of  a  drama  of  the 
"  Lyceum.” 

"  Do  you  know  anything  at  all  of  this  letter  ?  ” 
asked  his  interrogator  quietly,  producing  the  docu¬ 
ment  from  beneath  a  pile  of  correspondence.  It  was 
the  letter  from  Copenhagen  to  Berlin.  Rosenthal, 
licking  his  dry  lips,  sat  in  his  chair,  while  the  letter 
was  read  to  him. 

Half-way  through  he  jumped  to  his  feet  and,  clicking 
his  heels  together  sharply,  said  :  “  I  confess  everything  ; 
I  am  a  German  soldier.” 

Now  the  astonishing  part  of  this  undoubtedly  strange 
case  was  that  Rosenthal  was  not  a  German  soldier  at 
all ;  he  was  a  criminal,  a  forger,  to  be  exact.  Perhaps 
the  feeling  common  all  the  world  over  to  stand  well 
in  the  eyes  of  our  fellow  beings  was  the  cause  of  that 
extraordinary  confession,  damaging  though  it  was. 

It  turned  out  subsequently  that  his  full  name  was 
Robert  Rosenthal,  that  he  was  a  German,  bom  in 
Magdeburg  in  1892.  At  the  age  of  fourteen  he  left 
school,  when  he  was  sent  by  his  parents  to  learn  the 
baking  trade  in  Cassel.  This  did  not  suit  either  his 
health  or  his  inclinations,  and  after  a  few  months  he 
went  back  to  Magdeburg,  where  he  obtained  a  post 
in  a  lamp  store,  remaining  there  until  he  was  about 
fifteen,  when  he  committed  a  forgery  and  was  sentenced 
to  three  months’  imprisonment.  After  that  he  went 
to  sea,  and  ultimately  found  a  temporary  home  with 
relatives  in  Waco,  Texas,  which  place  he  left  at  the 
end  of  1913. 

On  his  arrival  home  in  Hamburg  he  tried  to  obtain 
employment,  but  had  no  references  and  no  one  would 
employ  him.  Finally,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go  to 
sea  again  but  was  unable  to  obtain  a  ship,  and  wasted 


56 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

his  time  around  Hamburg  for  some  weeks  until 
August  ist,  1914,  when  the  Germans  declared  war  on 
Russia.  He  then  joined  a  train-load  of  reservists  going 
to  Berlin.  For  a  time  he  was  engaged  by  the  American 
Relief  Commission,  but  the  work  appears  to  have  been 
a  blind,  for  on  going  to  Denmark  he  apparently  received 
instructions  to  proceed  to  England  for  espionage 
purposes. 

Rosenthal  volunteered  to  write  a  confession,  and 
produced  a  very  lengthy  statement  concerning  his 
career  and  travels.  He  offered  his  services  to  the 
British  authorities,  adding  that  he  would  gladly  render 
all  possible  assistance  in  solving  the  real  spy  system 
of  Germany,  a  proposition  which,  needless  to  say,  was 
not  accepted. 

Rosenthal  was  incarcerated  in  Wandsworth  Deten¬ 
tion  Barracks,  a  military  prison.  He  was  duly  tried 
by  court-martial,  and  made  practically  no  defence. 
His  whole  bearing  indicated  pride  rather  than  grief, 
and  all  through  the  proceedings  he  gave  one  the  idea 
that  he  had  righteously  failed  in  the  execution  of  his 
duty  and  was  paying  the  penalty  accordingly.  After  his 
conviction  he  made  two  attempts  to  commit  suicide, 
but  was  unsuccessful.  For  reasons  connected  with 
the  military  occupation  of  the  Tower  it  was  decided 
by  the  authorities  that  the  spy  should  suffer  death 
by  hanging,  so  at  8  a.m.  on  the  morning  of  July  15th, 
1915,  Rosenthal,  escorted  by  two  stalwart  policemen, 
went  to  his  death.  Towards  the  end  he  broke  down 
badly  and  gave  unutterable  disgust  to  the  authorities 
by  his  lack  of  common  courage.  In  fact,  the  com¬ 
mandant  described  him  as  a  “  cur.” 

The  youngest  spy  to  be  executed  in  this  country, 
he  was  a  typical  specimen  of  the  ne’er-do-well,  drugging 


57 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

himself  with  cocaine,  and  from  the  date  of  his  first 
crime  in  Germany,  about  1906,  until  his  capture  in  this 
country  in  1915  had  been  everything  by  turns  and 
nothing  long.  Rosenthal  was  undoubtedly  a  young 
man  of  some  ability  ;  he  spoke  and  wrote  English 
very  well,  and  had  a  certain  gift  of  composition.  He 
was,  however,  utterly  unscrupulous,  quite  willing  to 
become  a  traitor  to  his  own  country  if  given  the 
opportunity. 


CHAPTER  V 

The  spy  M.P. — The  true  history  of  I.  T.  T.  Lincoln. 

There  must  be  many  people  in  this  country  who  feel 
exceedingly  uncomfortable  when  the  name  of  Ignatius 
Timothy  Trebitsch  Lincoln  crops  up.  Journalist, 
curate,  M.P.,  international  spy  and  common  criminal, 
the  amazing  story  of  the  deceptions  he  practised 
deserves  to  go  down  to  posterity,  if  only  as  a  warning 
to  future  generations. 

Lincoln,  or  to  give  him  his  real  name,  Trebitsch, 
was  a  Hungarian  Jew  with  an  irresistible  penchant 
for  dabbling  in  high  politics.  He  finished  up  a 
kaleidoscopic  career  in  England,  after  having  been 
M.P.  for  Darlington,  by  fleeing  to  the  United  States, 
and  being  subsequently  extradited  on  a  charge  of 
forging  the  signature  of  the  well-known  Quaker 
philanthropist,  Mr.  Seebohrn  Rowntree.  His  trial 
and  sentence  of  three  years’  penal  servitude  I  do  not 
propose  to  deal  with  ;  the  facts  are  well  known  to  the 
public.  But  I  should  like  to  tell  the  astonishing  story 
of  his  early  life  and  his  adventures  in  England  after 
the  outbreak  of  the  war.  Our  history  will  never 
contain  a  more  interesting  character. 

Lincoln  was  born  some  forty  years  ago  at  Paks, 
a  small  commercial  town  on  the  Hungarian  part  of 
the  Danube,  where  his  father,  a  prosperous  Jewish 
merchant,  had  built  up  a  river  shipbuilding  business 

58 


Our  Hungarian  Curate  59 

which  more  than  paid  its  way.  It  was  intended  that 
Ignatius,  the  younger  son,  should  enter  the  Jewish 
Church  as  a  Rabbi,  and  with  a  view  to  that  end  he  was 
put  to  study  at  an  age  when  most  boys  were  developing 
their  physical  abilities  rather  than  their  mental.  Inci¬ 
dentally  he  acquired  then  that  knowledge  of  languages 
which  probably  had  much  to  do  with  his  becoming 
an  international  adventurer. 

In  his  early  twenties  young  Lincoln  went  a-travelling 
and  found  himself  in  London,  where  the  teaching  of  the 
Anglican  Church  apparently  so  affected  his  im¬ 
pressionable  Jewish  mind  that  secession  from  the  re¬ 
ligion  of  his  fathers  began  to  augur  a  more  probable 
alteration  in  his  future  life.  On  his  return  to  Hungary 
there  were  violent  quarrels  between  father  and  son, 
culminating  in  Ignatius  eventually  going  to  Hamburg, 
where  in  1899  he  was  received  into  the  Lutheran 
Church.  From  there  he  was  sent  to  Canada  to  assist 
in  a  Presbyterian  mission  to  the  Jews.  In  1902, 
when  that  mission  was  transferred  to  the  Anglican 
Church,  young  Lincoln  changed  his  faith  accordingly. 
For  two  or  three  years  following  he  preached  through 
Canada,  creating  a  more  than  favourable  impression 
by  his  fiery  oratory.  A  holiday  in  Germany,  necessi¬ 
tated  by  a  breakdown  in  health,  terminated  his  colonial 
career.  While  in  Germany  he  made  application  to 
the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  for  an  English  curacy, 
and  after  some  little  inquiry  was  appointed  to  the 
parish  of  Appledore  in  Kent. 

Naturally  enough,  the  taciturn  Kentish  villagers 
did  not  take  kindly  to  their  Hungarian  Jew  curate, 
and  after  fourteen  months’  stay,  marked  by  mutual 
misunderstanding,  Lincoln  proffered  his  resignation 
and  shook  the  dust  of  Appledore  from  his  feet.  From 


60 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

there  he  migrated  to  London,  and  for  a  couple  of  years 
earned  a  fair  living  as  a  journalist,  contributing  to 
any  paper  which  would  accept  his  matter. 

About  the  beginning  of  1906  Lincoln  came  into 
touch  with  Mr.  Seebohm  Rowntree,  who  was  so  im¬ 
pressed  with  the  undoubted  abilities  of  the  young 
Hungarian  with  the  British  name  that  he  engaged 
him  as  his  private  secretary.  This  post  brought 
him  into  constant  communication  with  the  Liberal 
Party,  of  which  Mr.  Rowntree  was  at  that  time  a 
prominent  figure,  and  in  March,  1909,  Lincoln  was 
invited  by  the  local  executive  to  contest  the  strong 
Unionist  constituency  of  Darlington  in  the  Liberal 
interest  at  the  next  general  election. 

It  says  much  for  the  plausibility  and  appearance 
of  this  amazing  adventurer  that  he  was  returned  when 
the  election  was  duly  fought  in  1910.  Such  a  thing 
has  never  happened  before  in  our  history,  and  the 
people  who  supported  him  at  the  time  can  have  had 
absolutely  no  conception  of  the  true  character  of  the 
man.  He  bluffed  everyone,  including  his  best  friend, 
Mr.  Rowntree. 

It  would  take  more  space  than  is  at  my  disposal 
to  deal  in  any  way  fully  with  his  career  in  the  years 
following  his  election  to  the  House  of  Commons.  It 
is  sufficient  to  say  that,  under  the  patronage  of  Mr. 
Rowntree,  he  was  sent  to  the  Continent  to  inquire 
into  economic  conditions  generally,  and  from  that 
time  his  head  seems  to  have  been  turned  by  the  notable 
personages,  including  many  ambassadors,  whom  he 
met.  Those  seem  to  have  been  the  years  when  the 
fascination  of  high  politics  gripped  his  very  soul  and 
largely  accounted  for  his  subsequent  undoing. 

In  the  House  of  Commons  he  was  treated  more 


Lincoln  as  Censor 


61 


or  less  as  a  joke,  his  foreign  accent,  coupled  with 
the  sublime  interest  he  professed  to  manifest  in  the 
well-being  of  Great  Britain,  proving  an  irresistible 
source  of  mirth  to  Press  and  public  alike.  And  all 
the  time  he  was  under  suspicion  by  reason  of  constant 
visits  to  the  Continent. 

Lincoln  had  no  particular  predilections  as  to 
nationality,  and  it  is  quite  certain  that,  whatever  his 
ultimate  fate  may  have  been,  he  had  no  intention 
of  turning  German  spy  on  the  outbreak  of  the  Euro¬ 
pean  War.  Perhaps  it  would  be  more  truthful  to 
say  that  he  was  willing  to  spy  for  anyone.  Funds 
were  very  low  in  1914,  when  he  had  lost  his  seat  in 
the  House  of  Commons  and  was  in  the  desperate  posi¬ 
tion  of  being  ready  to  do  anything  for  money.  He 
was  quite  agreeable  to  spy  for  both  Germany  and 
Britain,  and  equally  to  betray  both. 

Now  comes  the  time  when  Lincoln’s  astounding 
effrontery  revealed  itself  to  the  full.  Shortly  after 
the  outbreak  of  the  war,  August  17th  to  be  exact,  he 
made  up  his  mind  that  the  plight  of  enemy  aliens  in 
this  country  was  going  to  be  an  unhappy  one.  With 
a  view  to  obviating  all  trouble  he  utilized  his  position 
as  an  ex-Member  of  Parliament  to  obtain  letters  of 
introduction  to  the  War  Office,  where  he  applied  for 
a  position  as  censor  of  Hungarian  and  Roumanian 
Correspondence.  Actually  this  was  given  him,  after 
some  little  hesitation,  and  thus  we  had  the  spectacle 
of  an  enemy  alien  reporting  on  the  correspondence  of 
compatriots.  Perhaps  Lincoln  carried  out  his  work 
conscientiously  enough  ;  he  seems  to  have  been  quite 
honest  in  the  early  days  of  the  war,  and  passed  on 
to  his  superiors  letters  likely  to  have  been  of  assistance 
to  the  enemy. 


62  German  Spies  at  Bay 

All  the  time  he  was  in  the  postal  censorship  there 
was  some  considerable  dissatisfaction  amongst  his 
fellow  workers  concerning  the  presence  of  an  enemy 
subject  in  their  midst.  Representations  were  made 
to  the  War  Office,  with  the  result  that  Lincoln  was 
informed  that  it  would  be  better  for  him  to  resign. 
This  he  did.  An  object  of  suspicion  everywhere,  he 
found  himself  unable  to  earn  a  living,  and,  worst  of 
all,  life  at  the  National  Liberal  Club,  of  which  he  was 
a  constant  habitue,  began  to  grow  impossible.  Old- 
time  associates  studiously  refrained  from  talking  to 
him,  and  the  suggestion  that  he  should  be  asked  to 
relinquish  his  membership  became  open.  It  was 
that,  apparently,  which  drove  the  iron  into  his  soul 
and  made  him  a  German  spy. 

It  is  doing  the  man  an  injustice  to  say  that  he  was 
a  member  of  the  German  Secret  Service.  Probably 
no  such  thought  had  entered  his  head  prior  to  the 
war.  But  the  outbreak  of  hostilities,  with  its  con¬ 
current  animosity  to  enemy  aliens  sweeping  across  the 
country,  made  the  life  of  such  a  palpable  adventurer 
as  Lincoln  exceedingly  unpleasant.  He  had  to  choose 
between  the  Allies  and  the  Central  Powers,  and  popular 
feeling  in  Great  Britain  made  his  espousal  of  the 
cause  of  the  latter  practically  inevitable. 

By  December,  1914,  Lincoln  appears  to  have 
formed  the  resolve  to  betray  Great  Britain.  To  do 
this  thoroughly  it  was  his  intention  to  try  and  obtain 
a  post  in  the  British  Counter-Espionage  Department 
Service  !  Consider  the  effrontery  of  this  Hungarian 
Jew  !  But  newly  discharged  from  the  postal  censor¬ 
ship,  an  object  of  suspicion  everywhere,  with  the 
hidden  intention  of  betraying  us  to  Germany,  he 
attempts  to  enter  a  service  which,  above  all  others, 


An  Impudent  Proposal  63 

makes  the  most  searching  inquiries  as  to  the  bona  / ides 
of  the  people  it  employs. 

To  assist  him  in  obtaining  an  introduction  to  the 
officials  of  the  counter-espionage,  Lincoln  enlisted  the 
aid  of  people  who  still  believed  in  him,  and  a  meeting 
was  arranged  for  the  following  day  to  enable  him  to 
be  made  known  to  our  Intelligence  Department  as  a 
gentleman  anxious  to  be  employed.  There  is  an  old 
axiom  that,  given  sufficient  rope,  any  thief  will  hang 
himself ;  probably  that  was  the  policy  adopted  towards 
the  ex-M.P.  It  should  be  remembered  that  he  still 
possessed  many  influential  acquaintances,  Cabinet 
Ministers  and  politicians,  unaware  of  his  true  character, 
and  inclined  to  take  him  at  his  own  valuation  for  the 
time  being. 

Lincoln’s  plan,  as  proposed  to  our  authorities,  was 
startling  enough  in  all  conscience.  It  was  that  we 
should  send  a  few  warships  into  the  North  Sea,  and 
that  the  Germans,  through  him,  should  be  made 
aware  of  the  fact.  They,  naturally,  would  send  a 
stronger  squadron  and  would  destroy  our  force.  From 
that  onward  the  Germans  would  gain  confidence  in 
his  information,  and  after  similar  tactics  had  been 
adopted  three  or  four  times,  the  “  trap  ”  would  be 
ready  for  the  desired  prey.  On  the  last  occasion, 
when  the  British  Admiralty  had  dispatched  a  bigger 
squadron,  in  order  to  entice  a  large  part  of  the  German 
Fleet,  we  should  have  in  waiting  a  powerful  squadron 
of  dreadnoughts  and  battle  cruisers,  able  to  pursue 
and  sink  anything  the  enemy  might  send. 

The  audacity  of  this  Hungarian  adventurer  !  His 
real  intention  was,  of  course,  to  inform  the  enemy 
exactly  what  was  to  occur — if  his  plan  was  adopted. 
Lincoln  must  have  imagined  we  were  a  race  of  simple- 


64 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

tons  to  believe  that  any  man,  having  intercourse  with 
the  Germans,  would  not  attempt  to  ingratiate  himself 
by  betraying  the  nation  for  whom  he  was  ostensibly 
acting. 

It  was  the  amiable  intention  of  this  infamous 
scoundrel  to  carry  on  with  his  twisted  plottings  for 
an  indefinite  length  of  time,  the  gist  of  which  was  to 
give  the  Germans  precise  information  as  to  the  dis¬ 
position  of  our  naval  forces.  How  he  ever  expected 
the  ancient  traditions  of  centuries  of  honourable  sea 
fighting  to  be  besmirched  by  the  employment  of  a 
rogue  such  as  himself  dictating  naval  policy  is  a 
mystery ;  only  the  brain  of  a  semi-lunatic  could  have 
evolved  such  an  idea. 

After  pestering  the  authorities  for  about  ten  days 
as  to  their  answer,  Lincoln  was  informed  that  his 
scheme  could  not  be  accepted  on  any  account ;  it 
would  necessitate  disclosing  to  him  the  position  of 
part  of  the  British  Fleet,  and  that  could  not  be  done 
to  anyone  in  his  position. 

Temporarily  beaten  in  amiable  proposal  number 
one,  the  tortuous  brain  of  Lincoln  evolved  an  even 
more  extraordinary  scheme.  He  would  go  to  Rotter¬ 
dam,  then  the  headquarters  of  the  German  spy 
system  against  Great  Britain,  and  by  more  double 
dealing  obtain  from  them  information  which  would 
convince  the  British  authorities  that  he  was  genuinely 
anxious  to  assist  us  in  our  troubles. 

He  obtained  a  passport  through  political  influence, 
and  on  December  18th  found  himself  in  Rotterdam. 
There  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  German 
Consul-General,  one  Gneist,  and  after  a  fortnight’s 
lying,  which  must  be  unique  even  in  the  annals  of  the 
German  Secret  Service,  he  had  so  far  gained  the  con- 


65 


The  Closing  of  the  Net 

fidence  of  that  individual  that  it  was  agreed  that  he 
should  be  given  certain  spurious  information,  in  return 
for  which  he  would  gain  the  gratitude  of  our 
authorities,  and  so  be  able  to  work  his  own  ends. 
Heaven  knows  what  he  expected  to  get  out  of  it  all  ; 
all  the  world  over  a  traitor  is  detested. 

The  probabilities  are  that  the  German  Consul  in 
Rotterdam  trusted  Lincoln  about  as  much  as  we  did  ; 
certain  it  is  that  the  information  supplied  to  him 
was  quite  valueless.  However,  Lincoln  duly  brought 
it  back  to  England  as  a  specimen  of  what  he  was 
willing  to  do,  and  made  further  proposals  as  to  his 
future  employment. 

By  this  time  the  net  was  closing  around  him.  His 
dealings  in  Rotterdam  had  convinced  the  authorities 
in  London  that  whoever  Lincoln  might  be  acting 
for,  it  was  not  Great  Britain.  To  say  that  he  was 
suspect  is  putting  the  matter  mildly.  The  informa¬ 
tion  he  had  brought  from  Holland  had  been  passed 
on  to  our  Intelligence  Department,  who,  in  their  turn, 
forwarded  it  to  Captain,  now  Sir  Reginald,  Hall,  the 
Director  of  Naval  Intelligence.  Not  receiving  any 
reply  within  a  week,  Lincoln  began  to  grow  afraid, 
and  went  to  the  War  Office  to  ascertain  what  was 
happening.  He  learnt  enough  to  convince  him  that 
he  was  in  a  dangerous  morass,  but,  resolved  to  bluff 
the  thing  out  to  the  finish,  told  the  officer  he  was  seeing 
that  he  would  exert  all  kinds  of  political  pressure 
to  get  what  he  was  pleased  to  term  “  justice.” 

This  book  is  not  meant  for  the  purpose  of  personal 
recrimination,  but  it  is  an  undoubted  fact  that  Lincoln 
was  sufficiently  unsuspected  by  his  old  acquaintances 
of  the  House  of  Commons  to  ensure  political  pressure 
being  brought  to  bear  on  the  officials  concerned,  with 


3 


66 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

a  view  to  his  being  employed  on  intelligence  work. 
But  they  refused  to  entertain  the  proposal.  They 
had  a  better  knowledge  of  Lincoln’s  real  character 
than  his  friends. 

So  passed  a  few  more  days.  Summoning  all  his 
remaining  courage,  Lincoln  decided  to  visit  the 
Admiralty  to  ascertain  what  had  happened.  There 
he  handed  in  to  a  secretary  a  long  statement  of  his 
case,  and  was  eventually  taken  to  see  the  Director  of 
Naval  Intelligence. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

The  situation  was  worthy  of  a  better  background 
than  the  unromantic  room  of  a  Government  depart¬ 
ment.  Picture  the  ex-M.P.,  double-dealing  spy  and 
general  adventurer,  trying  to  convince  someone  who 
could  read  him  through  and  through  that  he  was 
anxious  to  help  us  all  he  could,  his  semi-frightened 
pleading  that  in  doubting  him  the  authorities  were 
alienating  one  of  their  best  friends,  while  all  the  time, 
at  the  back  of  the  brain  of  the  Director  was  a  keen 
perception  of  what  Lincoln  actually  represented, 
the  traitor  who  would  betray  anyone.  But  of  this 
nothing  was  said.  Lincoln  was  permitted  to  depart 
with  the  promise  that  his  case  would  be  attended  to 
in  the  course  of  a  day  or  two. 

But  nearly  a  fortnight  passed,  and  still  nothing 
happened.  Now  in  a  state  of  pronounced  “  funk,” 
expecting  to  be  arrested  almost  any  moment,  Lincoln 
kept  worrying  some  of  his  Parliamentary  acquaint¬ 
ances  to  get  the  recognition  due  to  him.  On  January 
27th  there  came  a  telegram  which  caused  him  alternate 
fright  and  hope.  It  was  from  the  Director  of  Naval 


67 


Brought  to  Justice 

Intelligence,  requesting  him  to  call  at  the  Admiralty 
and  to  bring  his  passport.  On  arrival  there,  Lincoln 
was  admitted  to  Captain  Hall,  who  informed  him 
that  they  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  him,  and 
that  the  sooner  he  left  England  the  better  we  would 
like  him.  He  was  handed  back  his  passport,  and  got 
outside,  wondering,  perhaps,  that  we  had  not  bothered 
to  pursue  the  matter  further. 

Lincoln  took  the  hint  offered  him,  and  the  following 
day  left  in  the  steamer  Philadelphia  for  New  York, 
where  he  arrived  on  February  9th.  There  he  reported 
himself  to  the  German  Secret  Service,  asking  for 
financial  assistance,  but  was  merely  laughed  at.  For 
six  months  in  the  American  metropolis  he  earned  a 
precarious  living,  writing,  publishing  in  some  of  the 
pro-German  newspapers  accounts  of  his  alleged  ex¬ 
periences  in  European  diplomacy.  But  in  the  mean¬ 
time  some  of  his  past  crimes  in  England  were  being 
revealed,  among  them  being  the  forgery  of  Mr. 
Seebohm  Rowntree’s  name  to  a  draft  for  £700.  Appli¬ 
cation  was  made  to  the  United  States  Government 
to  extradite  the  accused  ex-M.P.,  and  for  that  purpose 
the  late  Chief  Inspector  Ward  was  sent  to  New  York. 
A  warrant  was  sworn  out  before  the  British  Consul, 
and  on  August  4th,  1915,  Lincoln  was  arrested. 

There  were  lengthy  legal  proceedings  before  the 
request  for  extradition  was  acceded  to  by  the  United 
States  Government,  but  in  the  end  they  went  through, 
and  Lincoln  was  duly  brought  to  England,  to  stand 
his  trial  at  the  Old  Bailey,  and  receive  a  sentence  of 
three  years’  imprisonment.  That  period  expired  in 
the  summer  of  1919,  and  it  was  intended  that  he 
should  be  deported  to  his  native  country,  Hungary. 
Circumstances  connected  with  the  Communal  Govern- 


5* 


68 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

ment  under  Bela  Kun,  then  ruling  Hungary,  necessi¬ 
tated  the  postponement  of  this  plan  for  a  few  weeks. 
It  was  carried  out  in  September,  1919,  however,  and 
for  the  first  time  for  many  years  Lincoln  saw  the  once- 
familiar  city  of  Budapesth.  He  was  not  wanted 
there,  however,  and  quickly  betook  himself  to  more 
congenial  haunts  in  Berlin,  where  he  renewed  his 
acquaintance  with  Count  Bernstorff,  the  late  German 
ambassador  to  the  United  States.  Apparently  the 
one-time  member  for  Darlington  identified  himself 
with  the  monarchial  reactionaries,  for  a  few  days 
later  he  was  reported  to  have  visited  the  ex-Emperor 
William  in  the  Bentinck  Castle  at  Amerongen.  But 
the  Kaiser,  low  as  he  may  have  fallen,  did  not  care 
about  making  the  acquaintance  of  such  as  Lincoln, 
who  returned  to  Berlin,  there  to  resume  his  machina¬ 
tions  with  Count  Bernstorff  and  his  fellow 
conspirators. 

It  is  quite  possible  that  we  have  not  heard  the 
last  of  Ignatius  Timothy  Trebitsch  Lincoln.  We 
refused  to  gratify  his  inordinate  vanity  by  trying 
him  as  a  spy  in  1916,  although,  in  the  light  of  later 
'.vents,  it  is  more  than  likely  that  he  will  not  give  us 
mother  opportunity.  But  a  preliminary  condition 
o  that  would  be  a  sojourn  in  England,  and  that  is  an 
improbable  proceeding  on  the  part  of  a  man  cunning 
n  the  extreme. 


CHAPTER  VI 


The  Postal  Censorship — How  it  assisted  to  trap  German  spies — 
International  complications — Baffling  the  enemy  cipher 
experts. 

No  book  dealing  with  counter-espionage  would  be 
complete  without  a  special  chapter  devoted  to  the 
duties  of  the  postal  censorship.  It  was  primarily 
owing  to  the  vigilance  of  that  department  that  many 
of  the  spies  who  came  to  England  were  trapped,  for 
in  nearly  every  case  it  was  necessary  that  the  post 
should  be  utilized  if  their  information  was  ever  to 
reach  its  intended  destination. 

But  that  alone  was  a  comparatively  minor  part  of 
the  functions  of  the  censorship.  There  was  the 
important  work  of  checking  the  millions  of  letters 
which  came  to  and  from  Northern  Europe  :  it  must 
not  be  thought  that  the  Germans  were  simple  enough 
to  have  dangerous  correspondence  addressed  direct 
to  Germany.  No,  they  made  full  use  of  neutral 
countries,  like  Holland,  Denmark,  Norway,  Sweden 
and  Switzerland  :  it  was  these  countries  which  figured 
so  largely  in  the  “  Black  List  ”  of  suspect  addresses, 
which  was  gradually  built  up  as  the  result  of  investi¬ 
gation  abroad. 

And  what  astounding  finds  there  were  sometimes  ! 
One  might  be  from  a  spy  asking  for  instructions — 
and  also  for  money.  Another  would  be  a  cipher 
message,  containing  information  gleaned  in  America, 

69 


70 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

as  to  the  disposition  of  certain  of  our  naval  forces. 
Or,  again,  it  might  be  a  remittance  addressed  to  a 
spy  :  our  Treasury  benefited  by  these.  In  addition 
to  all  this,  our  postal  censorship  fulfilled  another 
exceedingly  valuable  purpose — that  of  an  Intelligence 
Department  for  news  concerning  the  internal  con¬ 
dition  of  enemy  countries.  Through  the  thousands 
of  letters  making  some  mention  of  the  war  one  could 
always  feel  certain  of  getting  something  which  would 
give  information  of  the  whereabouts  of  the  different 
German  armies,  and  also  a  very  fair  idea  of  the  dis¬ 
position  of  the  German  Navy.  There  would  be 
tidings  of  the  casualties  suffered  in  certain  areas, 
what  the  moral  of  the  troops  was  like,  and  a  thou¬ 
sand  other  things  which,  individually,  were  of  re¬ 
latively  little  value,  but  in  the  aggregate,  coupled 
with  the  intelligence  systems  of  our  Allies,  enabled  us 
to  construct  a  most  valuable  conception  of  what  our 
adversaries  were  doing. 

It  was  the  postal  censorship,  in  conjunction  with 
the  cable  censorship,  which  enabled  the  strangling 
Blockade  to  be  so  perfectly  developed.  The  data 
compiled  from  enemy  letters  and  cables  was  amazing. 
It  was  nearly  as  wonderful  as  the  sublime  confidence 
of  the  Hun,  who,  long  after  the  time  when  he  knew 
that  all  mails  proceeding  through  the  different 
war  zones  were  being  examined  by  us  or  our  Allies, 
persisted  in  writing  letters  which  were  literally 
mines  of  information.  It  certainly  revealed  a  faith 
in  our  simplicity  which  proved  to  be  quite  unjustified. 
Practically  all  the  evidence  given  before  the  Prize 
Courts  concerning  vessels  whose  cargoes  were  claimed 
by  the  Crown  as  being  destined  for  an  enemy  country, 
was  furnished  by  the  cable  and  postal  censorship. 


A  Wonderful  Expansion  71 

the  amount  involved  by  the  end  of  the  war  totalling 
something  like  £40,000,000.  Enemy  securities  seized 
in  the  post  were  another  source  of  wealth  to  us.  And 
when,  in  addition  to  all  this,  it  is  reckoned  that  we 
seized  most  of  the  remittances  addressed  to  spies 
who  were  plying  their  nefarious  trade  here  it  will  be 
realized  that  the  postal  censorship  was  quite  a  pro¬ 
fitable  undertaking. 

On  August  3rd,  1914,  the  day  before  the  outbreak  of 
the  war,  the  postal  censorship  consisted  of  exactly 
one  person.  On  December  31st,  1917,  no  fewer  than 
4,200  were  employed  :  172  men  and  1,256  women 
at  Liverpool,  the  remainder  in  London.  This  re¬ 
markable  expansion  had  not  been  effected  without 
great  difficulty.  As  I  have  already  stated,  the  cable 
censorship  had  been  thought  out  in  every  detail  long 
years  before  the  war,  by  General  Sir  Francis  Davies, 
and  the  last  finishing  touches  put  to  the  scheme  by 
General  Cockerill,  who  succeeded  him  in  charge  of 
the  Special  Intelligence  Section  of  the  General  Staff 
at  the  War  Office  in  1906.  The  latter  officer  then 
devoted  himself  to  the  task  of  arousing  the  country 
and  the  Press  to  the  need  for  some  control  of  the 
Press  in  time  of  war,  if  the  nation’s  secrets  were  to  be 
kept.  To  this  view  he  succeeded  in  converting  the 
Press  itself,  and  obtained  their  assent  to  a  voluntary 
censorship.  He  also  turned  his  attention  to  the  task 
of  inducing  the  legal  advisers  of  the  Crown  to  recog¬ 
nize  the  fact  that,  when  war  came,  the  military  and 
naval  authorities  would  require  to  exercise  extensive 
emergency  powers,  and  that,  if  these  were  to  be  assumed 
without  difficulty,  their  extent,  and  the  method  of 
exercising  them,  would  have  to  be  settled  in  time  of 
peace.  General  Cockerill’s  contention  was  that  the 


72 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

necessary  powers  should  be  given  by  statute,  and 
this  view  finally  prevailed.  It  is  on  this  account 
that  the  General’s  friends  twit  him  as  being  the 
spiritual  father  of  “  Dora,”  the  notorious  Defence  of 
the  Realm  Act.  But  he  pleads  that  “  Dora  ”  was  a 
very  nice  girl  until  she  came  under  the  influence  of 
the  civil  authorities,  and  he  declines  to  take  any 
responsibility  for  her  subsequent  behaviour.  On 
leaving  the  War  Office  in  1907  General  Cockerill  was 
succeeded  by  Colonel  Edmonds,  who  laid  the  founda¬ 
tions  of  the  Secret  Service,  and  then  made  way  for 
Colonel,  now  Lieutenant-General  Sir  George,  Mac- 
Donogh,  who,  on  the  outbreak  of  war,  was  appointed 
to  Sir  John  French’s  staff  as  Chief  Intelligence  Officer. 
These  two  officers  had  devoted  much  attention  to 
the  creation  of  a  military  counter-intelligence  service, 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  had  not  found  it  possible 
to  proceed  very  far  with  the  organization  of  a  Press 
censorship ;  moreover,  such  arrangements  as  were 
made  were  conceived  on  lines  which  subsequent 
experience  proved  to  be  impracticable.  The  idea 
of  a  postal  censorship,  that  might  have  to  deal  with 
every  letter  that  entered  or  left  the  United  Kingdom, 
had  occurred  to  nobody,  or,  if  it  had,  had  been  dis¬ 
missed  as  chimerical.  The  provision  of  staff  for  such 
a  gigantic  organization  as  would  obviously  be  neces¬ 
sary  seemed  an  utter  impossibility,  while  those  who 
knew  the  financial  authorities  of  the  War  Office 
and  Treasury  would  have  deemed  it  hopeless  to  try  to 
obtain  sanction  for  the  financial  expenditure  which 
would  be  incurred.  And  so  it  nearly  proved. 

One  of  the  first  duties  that  claimed  the  attention 
of  Colonel  Douglas  MacEwen,  who  was  appointed  to 
succeed  Colonel  MacDonogh,  was  the  examination  of 


General  Cockerill 


73 


the  mails  intended  for  neutral  countries  adjacent 
to  enemy  territory.  It  was  clearly  futile  to  censor 
soldiers’  letters  in  France  if,  for  example,  officers  and 
men,  on  returning  from  France,  were  able  to  write 
freely  to  friends  in  Holland.  Obviously,  too,  it  was 
foolish  to  permit  enemy  agents  to  communicate  with 
their  employers  abroad.  So  a  few  officers  of  the 
General  Staff  were  detailed  to  open  letters,  while 
efforts  were  made  to  obtain  outside  assistance.  The 
difficulties  were  stupendous  :  delays  inevitable.  In 
spite  of  every  obstacle,  however,  premises  were 
secured,  increases  of  staff  sanctioned,  and  some  sort 
of  organization  rapidly  improvised.  Then,  in 
September,  1914,  Colonel  MacEwen,  who  had  dis¬ 
played  the  utmost  energy  in  a  task  of  supreme  diffi¬ 
culty,  was  called  to  the  command  of  a  battalion  in 
France,  and  Colonel  Cockerill,  as  he  then  was,  re¬ 
assumed  command  of  the  Special  Intelligence  Section 
after  a  lapse  of  seven  years. 

During  the  next  few  weeks  he  had  a  busy  time. 
He  had  to  expand  and  reorganize  the  British  Secret 
Service  and  also  to  superintend  the  counter-espionage 
service,  create  a  military  examination  system  at  the 
ports,  start  a  military  permit  office,  get  into  touch 
with  the  military  authorities  in  the  Dominions,  perfect 
the  cable  censorship,  centralize  the  control  of  Press 
telegrams,  and  last,  but  not  least,  proceed  with  the 
organization  of  the  postal  censorship.  Fortunately 
he  had  the  assistance  of  an  ideal  Chief  Postal  Censor, 
in  the  person  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  G.  S.  H.  Pearson, 
who  held  that  position  to  the  end  of  the  war. 

The  staff  of  the  postal  censorship  was  as  yet  wholly 
inadequate.  The  corridors  of  the  building  were 
choked  with  mail  bags,  addressed  to  every  quarter 


74 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

of  the  globe.  Every  member  of  the  staff  was  sur¬ 
rounded  knee-deep  with  letters  waiting  to  be  examined, 
and  complaints  were  pouring  in  to  the  Government 
from  all  over  the  world.  There  had  been  no  oppor¬ 
tunity  of  evolving  a  system  whereby  each  censor  could 
be  held  responsible  for  letters  opened  by  him,  and  no 
complete  means  of  utilizing  the  mass  of  valuable 
information  contained  in  the  correspondence.  In  its 
then  state  the  postal  censorship  was  no  more  equipped 
for  the  task  of  coping  with  tons  of  mail  than  were 
the  authorities  prepared  for  the  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  men  who  choked  the  military  depots  throughout 
the  country,  in  response  to  the  call  of  their  King  and 
country.  Order  had  to  be  evolved  out  of  chaos. 
That,  of  course,  took  some  time  :  it  was  months  before 
the  work  could  proceed  smoothly.  It  was  necessary, 
in  addition  to  expediting  the  examination  of  mails, 
to  create  sub-departments  for  dealing  with  the  differ¬ 
ent  branches  of  the  work,  such  as  the  detection  of 
spies’  letters,  the  reading  of  ciphers,  the  discovery 
and  development  of  invisible  inks,  experts  in  pro¬ 
paganda,  and  people  who  could  speak  every  language 
under  the  face  of  the  sun,  from  Lithuanian  to  Chinese. 

It  may  well  be  imagined  that  the  difficulties  reacted 
on  the  harmony  of  our  diplomatic  relations  abroad. 
There  is  no  harm  in  stating  now,  that  in  the  early  days 
of  the  war  the  postal  and  cable  censorships  were 
continually  involving  this  country  in  international 
complications.  Many  and  bitter  were  the  complaints 
from  America.  Less  than  a  month  after  he  had 
assumed  office.  Colonel  Cockerill  was  requested  to 
call  at  the  Home  Office  to  see  Mr.  Reginald  McKenna, 
the  Home  Secretary,  and  Mr.,  now  Sir  Charles,  Hob- 
house  then  Postmaster-General.  He  was  informed 


International  Troubles 


75 


that  the  Government  thought  the  censorship  ought 
to  be  abolished,  and  he  was  asked  what  he  had  to  say 
to  the  contrary.  Both  Ministers  were  obviously 
worried  over  the  countless  complaints  being  addressed 
to  the  Government  from  neutral  countries,  but  after 
a  long  explanation  they  were  convinced  that  the 
abolition  of  the  censorship  was  unthinkable,  and  that 
the  military  authorities  would  stand  by  that  attitude 
to  the  end. 

About  the  same  time  the  Foreign  Office  was  greatly 
perturbed  by  the  growing  hostility  evinced  in  America 
against  the  postal  censorship.  The  late  Dr.  Page, 
then  American  Ambassador,  called  upon  Viscount, 
then  Sir  Edward,  Grey,  to  inform  him  of  the  strong 
protests  being  made  to  his  Government  in  America, 
mainly  by  business  men,  against  the  cable  censorship. 
Now,  however,  we  were  on  safe  ground,  as  our  action 
was  strictly  in  accordance  with  international  agree¬ 
ments.  Colonel  Cockerill,  as  on  the  previous  occasion, 
was  able  to  give  a  satisfactory  explanation.  Dr.  Page 
was  informed  of  some  of  the  activities  of  German 
agents,  both  in  America  and  Northern  Europe, 
which  left  him  in  no  doubt  that  in  our  own  interest 
the  action  taken  was  both  reasonable  and  proper. 

That,  however,  was  not  the  end  of  the  matter. 
As  the  war  went  on,  and  the  ever-tightening  Blockade 
gradually  closed  down  all  enemy  transactions  abroad, 
the  Director  of  Special  Intelligence  was  continually 
receiving  complaints,  many  of  which  unquestionably 
emanated  in  Germany,  as  to  the  effect  of  our  censor¬ 
ship.  We  met  that  plaint  by  improving  our  methods 
to  such  an  extent  that  the  matter  of  delay  was  almost 
entirely  eliminated,  certainly  altogether  by  comparison 
with  some  of  our  Allies,  who  took  weeks  to  examine 


76 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

letters.  The  other  phase  of  the  trouble,  that  of  the 
damage  we  were  doing  to  enemy  commerce  abroad, 
we  did  not  bother  to  answer.  That  was  one  of  the 
primary  purposes  for  which  the  censorship  had  been 
established.  To  a  certain  extent  conflict  between 
the  military  authorities  and  politicians  was  inevitable 
in  such  matters,  although  for  the  credit  of  our  politi¬ 
cians  I  must  say  that,  when  shown  the  class  of  com¬ 
munication  which  the  censorship  was  daily  bringing 
to  light,  they  had  little  or  no  hesitation  in  acquiescing 
in  the  military  attitude. 

It  can  be  said  of  our  Foreign  Office  that  in  all  the 
political  trouble  which  occurred  they  supported 
the  War  Office  and  refused  to  budge  from  the  position 
that  by  the  rules  of  international  law  a  belligerent 
nation  possessed  the  right  to  examine  cable  and  mail 
matter,  confiscating  or  detaining  anything  that  might 
be  of  assistance  to  their  enemies,  but  forwarding  as 
rapidly  as  possible  genuine  and  innocent  private 
correspondence.  In  time  the  United  States  Govern¬ 
ment  concurred  in  this  view-point,  stating,  through 
Mr.  Robert  Lansing,  the  Secretary  of  State,  that  al¬ 
though  the  U.S.  Government  appreciated  our  right 
to  examine  mails,  the  American  elector  did  not. 
But  in  any  case  this  conversion  necessitated  much 
time  and  patience. 

****** 

The  great  importance  of  the  postal  censorship,  apart 
from  its  immediate  local  results,  lay  in  the  grip  it  gave 
us  over  practically  the  whole  of  the  world’s  corre¬ 
spondence.  One  could  feel  quite  thrilled  by  the 
fact  that  outside  the  region  of  the  Central  Empires 


Isolating  the  Enemy  77 

there  was  hardly  a  country  communicating  with 
them  to  whose  correspondence  we  did  not  have  access. 
Either  we  or  our  Allies  were  in  a  position  to  examine 
everything,  and  later  on,  as  we  established  bureaux 
where  all  the  information  obtained  was  passed  from 
one  to  the  other,  the  enemy  had  good  cause  to  curse 
the  fact  that  the  freedom  of  the  seas  had  thrown  him 
entirely  upon  his  internal  resources. 

There  were  censorships  in  all  our  Colonies,  in  addition 
to  places  of  strategical  importance,  such  as  Gibraltar, 
Alexandria,  Singapore,  Hong  Kong,  Shanghai,  Sierra 
Leone  and  Halifax  (Nova  Scotia).  All  correspondence 
intercepted  at  these  places,  when  found  to  contain 
information  of  Imperial  interest,  was  forwarded  on 
to  London,  and,  in  turn,  to  our  Allies  where  it  con¬ 
cerned  them.  It  would  be  impossible  in  a  book 
dealing  with  a  different  subject  to  go  exhaustively 
into  the  full  effects  of  this  restriction  of  intercourse, 
although  one  might  say  in  passing  that  the  incon¬ 
venience  caused  was  nothing  to  the  unalterable  fact 
that  by  it  we  directly  shortened  the  war.  The  postal 
and  cable  censorships  were  the  eyes  of  the  Blockade, 
and  in  years  to  come,  when  the  full  history  of  the 
late  war  comes  to  be  written,  it  will  be  found  that 
the  shortage  of  supplies  and  the  consequent  collapse 
of  the  enemy  moral,  was  primarily  brought  about  by 
the  Blockade.  Our  countering  of  enemy  propaganda, 
another  vital  factor  in  determining  the  ultimate  issue, 
also  depended  largely  on  postal  censorship. 

It  is  not  out  of  place  to  quote  here  a  letter  seized 
from  the  Headquarters  of  the  Bulgarian  Army  in  the 
Field,  showing  to  what  extent  a  strict  censorship  of 
correspondence  was  necessary.  And  it  also  shows 
the  value  of  our  examining  all  mails.  The  letter  in 


78 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

question  was  addressed  to  the  Bulgarian  Legation  in 
Washington,  dated  May  22nd,  1916  : 

“  The  Intelligence  Department  of  the  German 
General  Headquarters  has  informed  us  that,  owing 
to  an  order  of  the  English  Government,  the  English 
official  casualty  lists  will  not  in  future  give  any  indi¬ 
cation  of  either  the  battlefields  or  the  units  to  which 
fallen  men  belonged.  In  this  way  the  most  important 
source  of  information  hitherto  available  for  following 
the  distribution  of  the  British  Armies  between  the 
different  Fronts  and  battlefields  will  disappear  in 
the  future.  Owing  to  this,  all  other  sources  gain  in 
importance  and  require  the  greatest  attention. 

“  Special  value  in  the  enemy  Press  attaches  to  the 
provincial  papers  because  in  their  descriptions  of 
different  incidents  of  the  war,  in  their  sport  notes, 
appeals  for  gifts,  etc.,  and  acknowledgments  thereof, 
there  are  always  to  be  found  some  hints  as  to  where 
the  armies  are.  As  up  to  now,  special  attention 
must  be  paid  to  the  war  papers  ”  (naming  well-known 
service  papers  such  as  the  Army  and  Navy  Gazette ). 
“  It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  with  the  expected 
censorship  of  the  English  papers,  information  of  use 
can  only  be  found  in  the  unimportant  places  and  also 
in  small  advertisements  and  notes. 

“  Sometimes  the  French  Press  contains  important 
information  about  the  English  armies.  So,  for  in¬ 
stance,  the  first  news  about  the  arrival  of  the  Australian 
armies  in  France  was  given  in  the  Pr ogres  de  la  Cote 
d’Or,  Dijon,  in  March,  1916,  and  in  the  Matin  of 
March  13th  and  28th,  1916,  in  paragraphs  from  Dijon 
and  Marseilles. 

“  Besides  this,  it  is  of  special  importance  to  examine 


The  Need  for  Censorship  79 

and  check  all  letters  which  are  sent  from  the  Front 
and  collected  from  the  prisoners  and  killed. 

“  Valuable  conclusions  can  also  be  drawn  from  the 
stamps  of  the  field  post  and  those  of  the  censorship 
to  be  found  on  the  envelope  and  wrappers.  As  their 
meaning  may  be  disputable,  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
to  send  in  the  originals. 

“  At  present  information  with  regard  to  the  following 
questions  is  of  importance  : 

“  (i)  What  divisions  are  being  transported  from 
Egypt  to  France.  The  date  of  their  transfer. 

“  (2)  Are  there  also  troops  being  transferred  from 
Egypt  to  Salonika  (perhaps  to  take  the  place  of  French 
troops  that  are  being  brought  back  again),  or  are  they 
also  going  to  withdraw  the  English  troops  from 
Salonika. 

"  (3)  When  will  there  be  transferred  to  France  the 
last  eight  divisions  of  Kitchener’s  Army,  numbers 
40  to  47,  which  are  still  in  England,  the  first  Territorial 
divisions  of  the  second  line  :  and  which  of  the  Terri¬ 
torial  divisions  of  the  second  line  will  be  transferred 
first. 

(Signed)  “  Major  Vasilev, 

“  Chief  of  the  Section  of  Information 
and  Censorship  of  the  General  Staff.” 

Could  anything  reveal  better  the  need  for  a  stringent 
censorship  ?  It  is  believed  by  the  military  authorities 
in  this  country  that  the  first  information  gained  by 
the  enemy  as  to  our  projected  Somme  campaign  in 
the  summer  of  1916  came  from  a  letter  published 
innocently  enough  in  the  British  Press  in  June,  1916. 
It  was  the  letter  of  a  junior  officer,  who  should  have 
known  better,  saying  that  the  new  trenches,  being 


80 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

situated  on  chalk,  were  infinitely  more  comfortable 
than  the  clay  of  Flanders.  Being  quite  as  well 
informed  of  the  geological  strata  of  France  as  ourselves, 
the  German  Intelligence  Department  had  only  to 
glance  at  a  map  to  understand  that  the  British  Front 
was  being  greatly  extended  and  that  offensive  opera¬ 
tions  in  that  quarter  could  be  expected  before  long. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  not  long  after  that  the 
Press  was  requested  to  refrain  from  publishing  such 
letters. 


*  *  *  *  *  * 

Although  the  postal  censorship  was  in  itself  a 
section  of  the  Directorate  of  Special  Intelligence,  the 
other  sections  relied  upon  it  and  the  cable  censorship 
for  a  great  deal  of  the  information  necessary  to  the 
conduct  of  their  work.  Most  important  of  all  was 
the  counter-espionage  section,  which  depended  upon 
the  examiners  in  Colonel  Pearson’s  department  to  send 
them  correspondence  addressed  to  enemy  agents  in 
this  country  and  by  them  to  places  abroad.  Every 
examiner  of  mails  was  supplied  with  a  book  containing 
a  list  of  people  who  were  suspected  of  being  under 
enemy  influence.  These,  as  may  be  imagined,  were 
of  all  classes.  There  were  merchants,  engaged  in 
important  products  intended  for  the  use  of  the  enemy, 
people  known  to  be  forwarding  information  sent  from 
foreign  sources,  and  last,  but  by  no  means  least,  the 
actual  addresses  of  members  of  the  German  Secret 
Service  living  in  a  neutral  city,  where  they  acted  as 
forwarding  agents  for  the  receipt  and  transmission  of 
matter  likely  to  be  of  interest  to  the  Great  General 
Staff  in  Berlin.  Throughout  the  war  the  headquarters 


Examining  Suspicious  Letters  81 

of  the  enemy  Intelligence  Department  were  at  Wesel. 
For  the  purposes  of  spying  in  England,  Rotterdam 
was  utilized  throughout  the  war,  Barcelona  being 
as  a  base  of  operations  against  France.  The 
Germans  also  made  use  of  Antwerp,  although  the  fact 
of  that  port  being  unavailable  for  neutral  shipping 
rendered  its  use  limited.  In  addition  to  this  we  had 
to  cope  with  the  numerous  spy  organizations  which 
the  Germans  created  in  America,  both  in  the  United 
States  and  countries  such  as  the  Argentine,  Peru, 
Chile,  Uruguay,  Brazil.  There  were  also  plenty  of 
suspect  addresses  in  Scandinavia,  so  it  can  readily 
be  imagined  that  examiners  of  mails  had  to  keep 
their  eyes  opened. 

The  number  of  people  to  whom  German  spies  had 
to  forward  their  information  was  comparatively 
limited  ;  perhaps  not  two  hundred  in  all,  which  ex¬ 
plains  why  we  were  enabled  to  trace  such  letters  so 
freely.  It  would  have  been  impossible  to  examine 
every  letter  for  invisible  writing  ;  the  simplest  method 
was  to  turn  up  the  address  and,  if  it  was  found  to  be 
suspect,  to  have  the  communication  chemically  treated. 
Many  of  the  letters  were  suspicious  in  that  they  said 
nothing.  They  would  be  full  of  inquiries  as  to  the 
welfare  of  the  addressee’s  family,  with  love  and  kisses 
freely  bespattered  all  over  the  page — but  nothing  to 
really  justify  the  sending  of  the  letter,  especially  as 
it  contained  no  English  address  and  no  readily  recog¬ 
nizable  name.  Such  letters  were  at  once  put  aside  for 
further  examination :  nine  times  out  of  ten  they 
either  contained  invisible  writing,  giving  information 
of  naval  or  military  importance,  or  were  in  code  with 
the  same  intent. 

It  says  a  great  deal  for  the  efficiency  of  the  censor- 

6 


82 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

ship,  and  also  for  the  skill  of  the  cipher  experts,  that 
up  to  the  end  of  the  war  we  detected  nearly  three 
hundred  of  these  letters  in  cipher,  all  of  which,  as  stated 
by  Lord  Fisher,  were  actually  deciphered.  And  an 
even  more  significant  indication  of  the  usefulness  of 
the  work  lay  in  the  lessening  number  of  messages 
detected  as  the  war  continued.  In  the  first  half  of 

1916  they  averaged  over  ten  a  week,  but  during 
the  same  month  in  1917  they  fell  to  less  than  an 
average  of  one  a  fortnight.  Then  the  Huns  gave  it  up. 

All  letters,  whether  in  cipher  or  containing  messages 
written  in  invisible  ink,  went  to  the  sub-section  con¬ 
cerned.  Some  were  photographed  for  distribution  to 
our  Allies,  the  original  being  kept  in  a  special  depart¬ 
ment,  which  will  remain  one  of  the  most  treasured  relics 
of  the  war.  They  are  a  comprehensive  guide  to  future 
Hun  activities  in  the  event  of  another  great  European 
War. 

It  will  give  some  idea  of  the  work  involved  when  I 
say  that  in  the  closing  years  of  the  war  an  average 
of  375,000  letters  were  examined  daily.  During 

1917  it  is  estimated  that  180,000,000  postal  packets 
were  gone  through,  356,000  being  detained  as  likely 
to  be  of  value  to  the  enemy.  Most  of  these  were,  of 
course,  quite  innocent  of  malicious  intent. 

It  being  found  that  the  average  censor  was  made, 
not  bom,  schools  were  established  where  instruction 
was  given  in  the  examination  of  correspondence  and 
detection  of  matters  likely  to  assist  the  enemy.  Women 
were  found  to  be  particularly  clever  at  the  work,  with 
the  result  that  their  employment  not  only  released 
many  men  for  fighting  purposes,  but  probably  meant 
added  efficiency. 

The  general  effectiveness  of  both  our  cable  and 


Allied  Admiration 


83 


postal  censorships  greatly  impressed  our  Allies.  The 
French,  Belgian  and  Italian  organizations  borrowed 
many  hints  from  our  system,  while  the  Americans, 
when  they  came  into  the  war,  were  so  enamoured  with 
our  method  of  postal  censorship  that  they  were  content 
to  rely  on  it  for  the  information  they  required. 


6* 


CHAPTER  VII 


The  Naval  Intelligence  Division — Rear-Admiral  Hall  and  his 
methods — The  amusing  case  of  Conrad  Leyter,  secret  dispatch 
carrier — Boarding  Officers  and  their  captures — Matahari  and 
her  visit  to  Scotland  Yard — A  ration  of  Iron  Crosses — Frederick 
Parker  Dunbar — The  Baron  Otto  von  Gumppenberg. 

Amongst  the  British  officials  whose  duty  it  was  to 
counter  the  activities  of  German  agents,  none  was 
more  strongly  feared  than  Rear-Admiral  Sir  Reginald 
Hall,  who  held  the  important  post  of  Director  of  Naval 
Intelligence,  a  department  which  might  be  said  to  have 
belonged  to  him,  for  he  succeeded  his  father,  who 
created  the  service  some  forty  years  ago. 

The  extraordinary  efforts  which  the  Germans 
made  to  obtain  information  as  to  the  disposition  of 
our  naval  forces,  what  we  were  building  and  what 
we  were  likely  to  do  in  the  future,  naturally  rendered 
Admiral  Hall’s  post  one  of  the  most  onerous  in  the 
Admiralty.  His  was  the  duty  of  safeguarding  naval 
secrets,  as  well  as  that  of  keeping  track  of  enemy 
subjects  and  agents  who  were  proceeding  through 
the  war  zone.  Many  were  the  strange  little  dramas 
which  sprang  out  of  this  latter  duty.  There  were 
scenes  in  Sir  Reginald’s  room  in  the  Admiralty  which 
deserve  to  be  immortalized,  if  only  to  show  the  methods 
employed  to  make  the  suspected  one  reveal  his  true 
mission. 

In  the  counter-espionage  department  of  every  nation 
it  is  an  accepted  axiom  that  different  nationalities 
must  have  different  methods  of  cross-examination. 

84 


The  Argentine  Dispatch  Carrier  85 

For  example,  persistent  reiteration  has  little  or  no 
effect  on  the  stolid  temperament  of  the  Teuton  or  Scan¬ 
dinavian  :  they  will  give  you  back  as  good  as  they 
get.  It  is  waste  of  time  talking  in  sprightly  fashion 
to  the  vivacious  Latin  :  he  will  lie  to  you  with  the 
utmost  of  pleasure,  and  do  it  so  effectively  that  unless 
you  have  a  carefully  prepared  list  of  questions  and 
keep  pegging  away  at  them  your  interrogation  will 
leave  you  as  wise  as  you  were  before.  But  reverse 
the  method.  Apply  reiteration  to  the  mercurial 
temperament  of  the  Latin,  and  break  down  his  defence 
by  a  cold-blooded  persistence  which  will  so  affect 
his  light-heartedness  that  he  will  grow  tired,  and 
then  see  what  will  happen. 

About  the  middle  of  1915  our  Naval  Intelligence 
Department  received  information  from  Holland  that, 
sailing  on  a  steamer  from  Rotterdam  to  Buenos  Aires, 
was  an  Argentino  named  Conrad  Leyter,  who  had 
been  to  Berlin  and  was  strongly  suspected  of  being 
in  possession  of  dispatches  addressed  to  the  German 
Embassy  in  Madrid.  Always  being  interested  in 
such  missives,  instructions  were  given  to  have  the 
steamer  detained  at  Falmouth  for  the  usual  search, 
and  to  ask  Sen  or  Leyter  if  he  would  be  good  enough 
to  come  up  to  London  and  see  Admiral  Hall.  Rather 
unwillingly,  the  Sen  or  complied  with  the  request  and 
in  due  course  found  himself  undergoing  a  prolonged 
scrutiny  from  the  Admiral’s  keen  blue  eyes.  After 
this  had  lasted  some  minutes,  during  which  time 
Leyter  began  to  grow  exceedingly  uncomfortable,  the 
Admiral  suddenly  said  :  “Tell  me,  Senor,  why  were 
you  going  to  Spain  ?  ” 

The  Argentino  jumped  up  from  his  chair  as  though 
shot,  and  then  burst  forth  into  fluent  explanation. 


86 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

He  was  a  shipping  clerk,  he  said,  and  had  come  to 
Europe  for  a  holiday,  and  was  now  on  his  way  back 
to  his  work  in  Buenos  Aires.  He  had  done  nothing 
but  travel  over  Germany  and  Holland,  and  knew  of 
nothing  likely  to  cause  his  detention  in  Great  Britain. 
This  peroration  lasted  for  about  fifteen  minutes. 
Admiral  Hall,  watching  him  intently  all  the  time, 
said  nothing,  but  when  it  was  finished  and  the  Argen- 
tino  had  leant  back  in  his  chair,  fully  satisfied  with 
himself,  the  Admiral  quietly  said :  “  But  tell  me. 
Sen  or,  why  were  you  going  to  Spain  ?  ” 

Another  torrent  of  explanation,  with  a  minute 
description  of  all  his  doings  in  Europe,  at  the  end 
of  which  he  again  leant  back,  fully  convinced  that 
he  had  satisfied  this  stupid  English  sailor,  only  to  get 
the  same  question,  even  more  quietly  than  before : 
“  But  tell  me,  Senor,  why  were  you  going  to  Spain  ?  ” 

So  it  went  on.  Explanations  lasting  ten  minutes, 
eight  minutes,  six  minutes,  four,  two,  one,  and  always 
the  same  reply  :  “  But  tell  me,  Senor,  why  were  you 
going  to  Spain  ?  " 

As  the  relentless  air  of  his  interrogator  continued 
so  did  Leyter’s  mercurial  spirits  droop.  He  had 
been  carefully  coached  in  his  part  before  embarking 
on  his  ship,  but  apparently  nothing  had  ever  been 
told  him  of  how  he  would  be  treated  if  captured  by 
the  British.  As  he  finished  his  last  explanation  and 
the  same  old  question  was  fired  at  him,  all  his  self- 
control  vanished.  J  umping  up  from  his  chair  he 
shouted  wildly  :  “  Ah,  well,  if  you  will  know,  I  am 
going  to  Spain,  yes." 

“  Thank  you,"  said  Admiral  Hall  blandly,  "  and 
pray  what  were  you  going  to  Spain  for,  by  such  a 
roundabout  route  ?  " 


Rear-Admiral  Sir  W.  R.  Halls 


\_To  face  p.  86. 


A  Valuable  Find 


87 


“  Ah,  I  am  carrying  dispatches  to  Prince  Ratibor, 
the  German  Ambassador  in  Madrid,”  answered  the 
now  thoroughly  demoralized  man. 

“  Thank  you  again,  Sen  or,”  replied  the  Admiral, 
still  more  blandly,  “  and  where  are  those  dispatches  ?  ” 

“  They  are  in  a  lifebelt  in  my  cabin,”  said  Leyter. 

“  Thank  you,  that  will  be  all,”  was  Admiral  Hall’s 
gentle  reply.  And  Leyter  was  removed,  to  subse¬ 
quently  find  a  safe  haven  in  an  internment  camp. 

It  all  turned  out  as  the  harassed  Argentino  had  said. 
The  dispatches  to  Prince  Ratibor  were  found  hidden 
in  the  cork  filling  of  the  lifebelt,  and  provided  us  with 
excellent  information  concerning  some  of  the  enemy’s 
amiable  intentions  towards  us  in  the  form  of  sabotage 
and  espionage,  which  we  found  more  than  useful.  As 
for  Leyter,  it  was  not  possible  to  try  him  as  a  German 
spy  :  he  had  not  entered  this  country  voluntarily, 
nor  had  he  attempted  to  obtain  information  here, 
so  he  was  interned  under  the  Defence  of  the  Realm 
Act  and  subsequently  deported  to  his  native  country, 
where,  doubtless,  he  had  something  to  say  to  his  friends 
as  to  the  fate  of  people  who  interfere  in  matters  of 
international  importance. 

****** 

Of  all  the  fascinating  duties  connected  with  the 
Naval  Intelligence  Department  those  of  the  Boarding 
Officers  easily  came  first.  It  was  very  much  like 
mixed  game  shooting  :  you  never  knew  what  you 
would  bag  next.  Sometimes  we  knew  what  was 
coming,  as  in  the  case  of  Dr.  Dumba  and  von  Papen, 
and  made  our  plans  accordingly.  On  other  occasions 
somebody  of  importance  would  slip  through,  and 


88 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

afterwards,  in  the  German  Press,  boast  of  the  clever 
methods  which  had  been  adopted.  Our  Navy,  being 
silent,  never  attempted  any  controversy  :  it  merely 
smiled  and  took  note  for  future  contingencies.  We 
had  to  live  and  learn. 

On  the  outbreak  of  war  there  were  very  large  numbers 
of  German  army  reservists  living  in  South  America 
and  Spain,  who,  with  a  patriotism  worthy  of  a  better 
object,  made  up  their  minds  to  return  to  the  Father- 
land  and  do  their  duty.  But,  unfortunately  for  them, 
they  had  to  travel  by  steamer,  either  through  the 
Straits  of  Dover  or  else  via  the  Mediterranean  and  Italy. 
As  even  in  those  days  we  were  maintaining  a  most 
efficient  patrol  of  all  steamship  routes  the  task  was 
hedged  in  with  difficulties,  and  only  those  Huns  who 
posed  as  neutrals  and  had  a  fluent  acquaintance  with 
the  language  could  reckon  they  had  any  chance  of 
reaching  Germany.  Every  steamer  passing  through 
the  war  zone  underwent  a  most  rigorous  examination, 
and  every  passenger  had  his  or  her  innermost  life  so 
dissected  that  there  was  little  left  afterwards. 

It  was  quite  obvious,  of  course,  that  the  majority 
of  suspected  people  found  on  such  ships  were  not 
German  spies,  in  that  they  had  no  intention  of  landing 
in  this  country  and  therefore  there  could  be  no  question 
of  bringing  them  to  trial.  But  we  were  perfectly  justi¬ 
fied  in  stopping  any  man  or  woman  of  enemy  nationality 
and  interning  them  if  it  was  thought  worth  while. 

We  had  a  typical  instance  soon  after  the  outbreak 
of  war.  A  steamer  bound  from  Chile  to  Holland  was 
brought  into  Falmouth,  and  the  process  of  examin¬ 
ing  passports  was  in  full  swing.  The  authorities  had 
their  suspicions  of  a  fat,  curly-headed  man,  who  looked 
a  Hun,  but  swore  by  all  the  deities  of  the  Catholic 


•  89 


A  Scotland  Yard  Trap 

Church  that  Spanish  was  the  only  tongue  he  knew. 
To  give  colour  to  his  assertion  he  let  loose  a  flood  of 
language  which  might — or  might  not — have  been 
Spanish,  without,  however,  greatly  convincing  the 
Boarding  Officer. 

“  Curly  locks  ”  was  left  alone  for  a  few  moments 
while  other  examinations  went  on,  but  was  kept  under 
observation.  Apparently  he  was  by  no  means  opti¬ 
mistic  as  to  his  chance  of  bluffing  his  way  through,  for 
he  was  seen  to  pass  to  an  attractive-looking  Austrian 
woman  with  whom  he  seemed  to  be  friendly  a  small 
piece  of  paper.  Nothing  was  said  by  the  Boarding 
Officer  when  the  fact  was  reported  to  him  :  he  merely 
waited  until  it  was  possible  to  get  the  woman  alone, 
when  she  was  requested  to  surrender  the  scrap  of  paper 
in  her  possession.  It  proved  to  be  a  message  in 
excellent  German,  imploring  her  not  to  betray  him  to 
the  British  authorities.  So  the  writer  was  sent  up 
to  Scotland  Yard,  given  pencil  and  paper  and  asked 
to  write  something  from  dictation.  As  this  “  some¬ 
thing  ”  was  his  own  message  in  German  “  Curly 
locks  ”  looked  rather  foolish.  He  shouted  out  that 
he  did  not  understand  such  a  language,  but  when 
his  interrogator  informed  him  that  the  original  script 
was  in  his  own  handwriting  he  gave  up  bluffing.  J  ump- 
ing  to  his  feet,  he  clicked  his  heels,  stood  smartly  to 
attention  and,  tossing  his  golden  curls  with  disdainful 
air,  said  :  “  Yes,  I  am  a  Prussian  officer,  on  my  way 
to  rejoin  my  regiment.” 

In  all  probability  he  saved  his  life  by  his  frankness, 
for  there  is  no  question  that  an  English  internment 
camp  offered  infinitely  better  possibilities  than  did 
the  Western  Front. 


90 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  specimen  of  the 
German  spy  ever  captured  by  our  Boarding  Officers 
was  Matahari  (Eye  of  the  Morning),  the  famous 
dancer,  who  was  about  the  only  woman  who  could 
advance  legitimate  claims  to  being  the  beautiful  spy 
of  fiction.  That  she  was  also  probably  the  most 
dangerous  spy  of  all  in  no  wise  invalidates  her  claim 
to  recognition  and  admiration.  Her  history  is  full 
of  interest  and  is  worth  giving  in  some  detail. 

Matahari’ s  real  name  was  Marguerite  Gertrud  Zelle. 
Her  father  was  a  Dutchman  who  had  married  a 
Javanese  woman  while  in  the  Dutch  East  Indies  and 
brought  the  child  home  to  Europe,  where,  as  she 
grew  up,  she  gradually  acquired  fame  as  an  exponent 
of  a  weird  form  of  Oriental  dancing  which  greatly 
pleased  the  pleasure-sated  inhabitants  of  many  Con¬ 
tinental  capitals.  She  was  a  tall,  sinuous  creature,  of 
dusky  complexion  and  glowing  black  eyes,  vivacious 
to  all,  and  in  the  course  of  her  travels  managed  to 
acquire  an  excellent  command  of  languages.  Some¬ 
where  in  the  early  twenties  she  married  a  Dutch 
naval  officer  of  Scottish  extraction  named  MacLeod, 
who  speedily  tired  of  her  eccentricities  and  divorced 
her.  That  did  not  worry  Matahari,  as  she  was  then 
calling  herself.  Men  were  her  slaves  :  she  had  only 
to  throw  over  them  the  spell  of  her  Oriental  mysticism 
and  their  souls  were  hers.  Everywhere  she  lived  in 
great  style  :  she  was  never  at  any  time  in  want  of 
money,  even  the  German  Secret  Service  had  en¬ 
rolled  her  among  its  spies. 

About  July,  1915,  when  she  was  fulfilling  a  dancing 
engagement  in  Madrid,  news  reached  our  counter¬ 
espionage  authorities  that  the  beautiful  Oriental  dancer 
was  a  suspect.  She  had  been  seen  in  company  with 


i 


Matahari. 


[  To  face  p.  90, 


The  Fascinating  Dancer  91 

agents  of  the  German  Secret  Service,  and  women, 
equally  with  men,  are  known  all  the  world  over  by 
the  company  they  keep.  So  the  fiat  went  forth  that 
Matahari  was  to  be  watched.  All  the  time  she  was  in 
Spain  her  movements  gave  ground  for  strong  suspicion, 
so  it  was  no  surprise,  in  the  early  part  of  1916,  when 
she  took  passage  back  to  Holland,  that  the  steamer  in 
question  should  be  detained  and  the  graceful  dancer 
asked  to  come  ashore,  in  company  with  a  very  exten¬ 
sive  wardrobe.  It  was  intended  to  bring  her  to 
London  to  be  interrogated. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  charming  than  the 
lady’s  acceptance  of  the  proposal.  She  told  the 
bashful  young  Boarding  Officer  that  she  would  be 
delighted  to  visit  London  once  more,  and  so  to  White¬ 
hall  she  came,  where,  in  a  room  full  of  stern-faced 
officials,  she  stood  a  cross-examination  with  a  skill 
and  a  determination  which  completely  baffled  her 
experienced  opponents.  But  when  she  was  taxed 
point  blank  with  being  a  German  spy  her  manner 
changed.  “  I  have  something  to  tell  you,”  she  said, 
with  a  fascinating  glance,  “  but  before  I  do  so,  you 
must  send  all  these  gentlemen  out  of  the  room.” 
So  the  room  was  cleared  except  for  three  officials, 
and  then  Matahari  made  her  confession.  “  I  am 
indeed  an  agent,”  she  said,  smiling  at  her  interrogators, 
“  but  for  the  Boche,  no,  a  thousand  times.  It  is 
for  France  that  I  act.” 

It  is  palpable  that  French  agents  do  not  consort 
with  members  of  the  German  Secret  Service,  although 
it  might  possibly  have  been  true  that  at  some  time 
or  another  of  her  picturesque  career  Matahari  had 
acted  for  the  Republic.  However,  nothing  could 
be  done  with  her :  her  wits  were  too  sharp  to  be 


92 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

trapped  by  any  question,  and  after  due  consideration 
it  was  decided  to  ship  her  back  to  Spain.  Before 
leaving  she  was  cautioned  as  to  her  future  behaviour, 
at  which  she  gave  her  interrogators  another  brilliant 
smile,  thanked  them  for  their  advice  and  also  for  a 
most  pleasant  two  hours. 

So  back  to  sunny  Spain  went  the  beautiful  dancer. 
It  would  seem,  however,  that  she  had  refused  to  take 
to  heart  the  good  advice  given  her  in  London,  for  in 
a  little  over  a  month  following  her  deportation  she  was 
caught  in  France  with  documents  in  her  possession 
which  left  no  doubt  as  to  her  being  a  German  spy. 

France  had  suffered  too  much  from  spies,  both  male 
and  female,  to  allow  any  tender  sentiment  to  stand 
in  the  way  of  justice.  Matahari  was  brought  to  trial 
in  Paris,  the  case  creating  an  immense  sensation 
in  the  French  capital,  where  her  name  had  long  been 
famous.  It  was  found  that  she  had  been  trying  to 
obtain  plans  of  the  Allied  offensive  to  take  place  in 
the  summer  of  1916,  and  although  skilfully  defended 
by  Maitre  Edouard  Clunet,  one  of  the  ablest  barristers 
in  France,  she  was  found  guilty  by  the  unanimous 
vote  of  a  court-martial  and  sentenced  to  death  on  July 
25th.  She  took  her  condemnation  quite  calmly,  and 
was  removed  to  St.  Lazare  Prison  to  await  execution. 

That,  however,  did  not  take  place  for  nearly  three 
months.  There  were  reasons  connected  with  the 
people  whom  she  had  been  communicating  with  which 
rendered  a  postponement  desirable,  and  it  was  not  until 
October  15th,  1916,  that  Matahari  paid  the  penalty 
of  her  sins.  At  five  o’clock  in  the  morning  she  was 
awakened  with  the  news  that  this  was  her  last  day  on 
earth.  Whatever  thoughts  may  have  existed  in  that 
once  vivacious  mind,  no  trace  of  them  was  allowed  to 


An  Indignant  Woman  93 

creep  into  her  countenance.  Donning  a  dark  dress 
trimmed  with  fur,  and  placing  a  large  felt  hat  on  her 
head,  she  notified  her  captors  that  she  was  ready  to 
accompany  them.  In  company  with  two  soldiers,  her 
counsel  and  a  Protestant  pastor,  who  could  not  but 
wonder  at  the  calmness  of  this  wonderful  woman,  she 
was  driven  off  to  the  fortress  of  Vincennes,  where  the 
execution  was  to  take  place.  When  the  pastor  asked 
her  if  she  would  pray  with  him  she  gently  refused, 
and  was  led  out  into  the  square  of  the  fortress,  where  a 
firing  party  stood  in  readiness.  She  declined  to  have 
her  eyes  bandaged  by  the  officer  in  charge,  and  when 
the  signal  to  fire  was  given,  smiled  and,  indeed,  was 
apparently  in  the  act  of  blowing  a  kiss  to  the  firing 
party  when  the  bullets  entered  her  breast. 

****** 

The  life  of  the  Naval  Intelligence  Department  was 
not  lacking  an  element  of  comedy.  There  arrived 
at  Dover  one  day  a  ship  bound  from  Rotterdam  to 
Barcelona,  which  numbered  among  its  passengers 
a  good-looking  young  woman,  named  Lisa  Blume, 
accompanied  by  an  elderly  countrywoman,  who  at¬ 
tracted  more  than  passing  notice  by  the  enormous 
quantity  of  baggage  in  her  possession.  No  fewer 
than  seventeen  trunks  were  filled  with  her  belongings, 
most  of  them  expensive  clothes,  which  hardly  seemed 
to  fit  in  with  her  story  that  she  was  housekeeper  to 
the  secretary  of  the  German  Embassy  in  Madrid. 

When  told  she  would  be  detained  for  further  in¬ 
quiries  the  young  lady  grew  mightily  indignant.  She 
filled  the  air  with  her  remonstrances,  and  haughtily 
refused  to  give  any  particulars  of  herself.  But  the 


94 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

stout  duenna,  highly  flustered  by  the  official  attitude, 
was  much  more  communicative.  Her  charge  was  in¬ 
deed  the  housekeeper  to  the  secretary  of  the  Embassy, 
and  when  pressed  as  to  why  any  young  man  should 
employ  a  young  and  beautiful  woman  in  such  a 
capacity,  confessed  that  perhaps  she  was  something 
more.  However,  there  was  no  great  harm  in  that, 
so  the  officials  thought  they  had  better  examine  the 
seventeen  trunks.  What  a  surprise  was  in  store  for 
them  !  In  one  of  the  boxes  was  found  nine  Iron 
Crosses. 

It  was  undoubtedly  the  ration  for  the  German 
Embassy  in  Madrid,  who  in  the  eyes  of  their  lords  and 
masters  must  have  accomplished  great  things  for  the 
Fatherland  to  justify  such  a  lavish  distribution. 
However,  there  they  were.  We  took  possession  of  the 
trophies  and  took  possession  of  the  young  lady.  Her 
protestations  when  informed  of  her  fate  still  linger 
in  the  memory  of  those  who  were  privileged  to  listen : 
they  were  certainly  a  unique  specimen  of  Hunnish 
abuse.  Her  captors  were  pigs,  thieves,  traitors, 
torturers,  everything  that  was  bad.  But  the  officials 
being  case-hardened,  smiled  broad  smiles  and  escorted 
the  lady  to  an  internment  camp,  and  left  her  there 
until  some  months  after  the  war  had  finished,  when 
she  was  permitted  to  return  to  Germany — minus  the 
nine  Iron  Crosses. 

Her  chaperon  was  allowed  to  proceed  on  her  j  ourney 
to  Madrid,  where  her  account  of  what  had  happened 
appears  to  have  aroused  the  greatest  indignation. 
Probably  it  was  the  loss  of  the  Iron  Crosses,  not  the 
young  lady,  which  so  played  upon  the  feelings  of  the 
German  Ambassador  in  Spain,  for  not  long  afterwards 
representations  were  received  from  two  neutral  Powers 


95 


The  Smiling  Stoker 

as  to  the  high-handedness  of  our  action.  But  the 
Ambassador,  like  a  true  Prussian,  does  not  seem  to 
have  told  the  entire  truth,  for  when  the  Powers  in 
question  had  the  full  facts  placed  before  them  they 
made  a  profuse  apology  for  having  interfered  in  the 
matter  at  all. 

sje  ♦  s|c  *  jfc  sfc 

It  occasionally  happened  that  Boarding  Officers 
seemed  to  have  made  a  mistake  in  the  passengers 
they  detained.  There  was  a  certain  American  steam¬ 
ship  bound  for  Sweden  brought  in  for  examination, 
and  the  Boarding  Officer  had  his  suspicions  of  two 
people,  one  a  grave,  bespectacled  second-class  passen¬ 
ger,  the  other  a  stout  little  Swedish  stoker,  both 
of  whom  were  believed,  from  information  received,  as 
the  police  say,  to  be  enemy  officers.  The  passenger, 
under  interrogation,  made  no  secret  of  his  identity. 
He  confessed  to  being  a  scientific  baron,  previously 
attached  to  the  Austro-Hungarian  Legation  in  Pekin, 
who  had  taken  passage  to  America,  and  thence  shipped 
across  the  Atlantic  with  a  view  to  ultimately  finding 
his  way  home. 

But  the  grimy  Swedish  stoker  refused  to  treat  the 
Boarding  Officer’s  suggestions  seriously.  He  grinned 
with  amusement  at  every  question  he  was  asked,  and 
answered  them  all  without  the  slightest  hesitation. 
In  his  personal  appearance  there  was  certainly  nothing 
to  betray  the  fact  that  he  had  ever  been  an  army 
officer.  Slouching  gait,  grease  and  coal  begrimed 
clothes,  he  was  a  stoker  of  whom  no  stokehold  would 
be  proud  to  claim  ownership.  He  was  born,  so  he 
alleged,  at  Mahno,  in  Sweden,  and  could  have  pro- 


96 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

duced  his  birth  certificate  and  identity  papers  had  they 
not  been  stolen  from  him  in  New  York.  So  he  was  put 
on  one  side  for  a  moment  while  other  passengers  were 
having  their  bona  fid.es  verified. 

Unfortunately,  the  little  man  appears  to  have 
possessed  a  sense  of  humour,  for  while  waiting  he  must 
needs  chuckle  in  German  to  a  compatriot  standing 
near  him  how  easily  he  had  fooled  the  Boarding 
Officer.  Standing  near  him  was  a  British  official  who 
understood  what  was  said,  and  a  few  minutes  afterwards 
the  stoker  was  taken  before  the  officer  once  more  and 
asked  if  his  name  was  not  Captain  So  and  So.  With 
a  rueful  smile  he  admitted  it  was,  and  pressed  still 
further  gave  his  full  story.  Prior  to  the  war  he 
had  been  a  bank  manager  in  Vienna,  and  had  been 
commissioned  as  a  captain  in  the  Austrian  artillery. 
Captured  by  the  Russians,  he  had  been  interned  in 
Siberia,  where  he  had  escaped,  and,  suffering  the  most 
terrible  privation,  had  walked  all  the  way  across  the 
plains  of  Manchuria  and  China,  ultimately  finding  his 
way  to  the  Austrian  Consulate  in  Pekin,  where  he  had 
been  supplied  with  a  passage  to  San  Francisco  in  a 
cargo  boat.  From  there  he  got  to  New  York,  saw 
the  Consul,  and  was  shipped  to  Sweden  with  a  false 
passport  as  a  stoker. 

It  was  bad  luck,  and  the  Boarding  Officer  could  not 
help  thinking  so,  but  there  was  only  one  thing  to  be 
done.  The  little  captain  was  an  enemy  soldier,  so 
he  had  to  go  into  an  internment  camp,  still  smiling 
a  rueful  smile. 

****** 

One  of  the  most  mysterious  characters  with  whom 
we  had  to  deal  in  the  early  days  of  the  war  was  a 


A  Bungled  Case  97 

German  naval  officer  of  the  name  of  Frederick  Parker 
Dunbar,  who  was  found  wandering  around  the  north 
of  Scotland  in  1914.  Dunbar  was  not  a  German  born  : 
he  was  of  American  origin  and  had  served  twenty-one 
years  in  the  German  Navy.  According  to  his  own 
story  he  had  recently  resigned  from  the  Navy  and  had 
come  to  Great  Britain  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  his 
son,  a  boy  of  sixteen  who  was  being  educated  in  this 
country.  But  there  were  circumstances  connected 
with  the  case  which  seemed  to  preclude  Dunbar’s  story 
being  a  true  one  :  he  was  carrying  a  false  passport 
in  the  name  of  William  Culden.  That  fact  alone  was 
enough  to  condemn  him  in  the  eyes  of  all  honest  men  : 
people  whose  intentions  are  straightforward  do  not 
meet  trouble  half-way  by  the  method  of  having  false 
passports  in  time  of  war. 

The  conclusion  we  arrived  at  was  that  Captain 
Dunbar  was  a  naval  spy  of  some  importance.  He 
himself  told  us  of  the  different  commands  he  had  held, 
and  they  were  sufficiently  onerous  to  make  us 
appreciate  the  fact  that  German  naval  captains,  even 
though  their  country  of  birth  might  have  been  America, 
do  not  wander  around  in  the  neighbourhood  of  our 
Grand  Fleet  without  some  sinister  motive.  Un¬ 
fortunately  the  case  was  badly  bungled  from  the  start. 
Dunbar  was  arrested  by  the  Scottish  police  before  he 
had  been  permitted  to  commit  himself  to  something 
in  writing.  He  was  brought  to  London  in  due  course 
and  underwent  several  strict  interrogations.  But  we 
could  glean  no  evidence  to  put  him  on  trial  as  a  spy, 
so  in  default  he  was  placed  in  an  internment  camp 
for  the  duration  of  the  war. 


*  *  * 


* 

7 


* 


98 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

In  October,  1915,  quite  an  interesting  revelation 
of  the  numerous  activities  of  the  Germans  came  to 
light  as  the  result  of  the  capture  of  a  stout  young 
German  who  said  he  was  the  Baron  Otto  von 
Gumppenberg. 

It  was  a  Boarding  Officer  in  the  Mediterranean  who, 
while  examining  the  Blue  Funnel  liner  Anchises, 
captured  the  Baron,  carrying  a  passport  bearing  every 
evidence  of  being  forged.  The  owner  was  detained, 
and  after  being  interrogated  in  Egypt  was  sent  on  to 
England. 

An  intensely  absorbing  story  the  Herr  Baron  told. 
It  seems  that  he  was  a  squadron  commander  in  the 
Deathshead  Hussars,  the  favourite  regiment  of  the 
German  Crown  Prince,  but  had  become  involved  in 
one  of  those  dreadfully  unsavoury  scandals  so  common 
in  the  crack  Prussian  regiments,  the  result  of  which 
was  that  he  was  arrested  and  served  seven  months’ 
imprisonment.  However,  that  fact  does  not  seem  to 
have  greatly  worried  the  young  Baron  :  according  to 
general  opinion  he  was  merely  one  of  many.  So  a  few 
months  later  found  him  wandering  about  Constan¬ 
tinople  as  aide-de-camp  to  the  notorious  adventurer 
Enver  Pasha.  Leaving  Enver  to  his  own  devices, 
von  Gumppenberg  next  became  attached  to  the  en¬ 
tourage  of  Prince  William  of  Wied,  what  time  that 
gigantic  individual  was  making  his  stupid  attempt 
to  govern  Albania.  Then  came  the  war,  and  von 
Gumppenberg  was  called  back  to  Germany  to  serve 
as  a  trooper.  From  his  own  statement  he  served 
about  eighteen  months  on  the  Russian  front  with 
different  cavalry  units,  and  so  distinguished  himself 
that,  on  being  sent  back  to  Germany  wounded,  his 
commission  was  restored  to  him.  He  was  posted  to 


99 


An  Incredible  Story 

the  command  of  a  troop,  and  was  on  the  point  of 
leaving  again  for  the  front  when  somebody  in  Berlin 
started  a  project  to  stir  up  the  tribes  in  Northern 
Africa.  It  would  appear  that  von  Gumppenberg  was 
connected  with  some  of  the  sponsors  for  this  amiable 
idea,  so  he  was  sent  off  to  try  what  he  could  do  with 
the  Senussi,  who  just  about  that  time  were  raiding 
all  and  sundry.  The  Italian  Government  sent  an 
expedition  to  deal  with  the  rebellious  tribesmen,  and 
came  out  of  the  affair  leaving  a  good  many  prisoners 
in  the  hands  of  the  natives.  The  stoiy  von  Gump¬ 
penberg  told  us  to  account  for  his  presence  on  the 
Anchises  was  that  a  League  of  Friendship  in  Berlin 
had  asked  him  to  go  to  the  Senussi  and  plead  with  the 
chief  for  the  release  of  the  Italian  prisoners  he  was 
holding,  and  thereby  gain  the  gratitude  of  all  Italy  ! 
When  we  asked  the  Baron  rather  indignantly  whether 
he  could  expect  us  to  believe  such  a  palpable  cock 
and  bull  yarn,  he  hastened  to  admit  that  it  was  rather 
crude.  Still,  he  had  none  other  to  offer,  so  we  had  to 
make  up  our  mind  what  to  do  with  him. 

Fortunately  for  the  Baron  it  would  seem  that 
when  interrogated  out  East  he  had  extracted  a  promise, 
in  return  for  a  confession,  that  he  should  be  treated 
as  an  officer  prisoner  of  war. 

We  should  very  much  like  to  have  handed  him  over 
to  the  Italian  Government,  who  would  certainly  have 
given  him  something  to  cure  him  of  interfering  in  other 
people’s  business  for  many  a  long  day.  However,  there 
was  the  promise  :  we  could  not  repudiate  it  and  so 
the  Baron  spent  the  remaining  period  of  the  war  in 
a  comparatively  comfortable  prisoners  of  war  camp. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


Second  German  attempt  to  establish  spy  system  in  Great  Britain 
— Capture  of  seven  spies  in  a  fortnight — Janssen  and  Roos — 
Breeckow  and  Mrs,  Wertheim— Fernando  Buschman,  violinist 
and  spy — Augusto  Alfredo  Roggen — Ernst  Waldemar  Melin. 

Towards  the  end  of  May,  1915,  our  counter-espionage 
authorities  had  reasons  to  conclude  that  the  Germans 
were  making  another  attempt  to  establish  a  spy 
organization  in  England. 

From  the  instances  I  have  already  narrated  it  can 
readily  be  imagined  that  the  much-vaunted  enemy 
Secret  Service  was  not  enjoying  a  particularly  success¬ 
ful  time  so  far  as  this  country  was  concerned.  Although 
they  could  not  have  known  at  the  time,  information 
as  to  the  destruction  of  their  chain  of  agents,  upon 
which  they  intended  to  rely  when  war  came,  must  have 
by  this  time  percolated  through  during  the  period 
that  our  postal  censorship  was  straightening  itself 
out.  No  better  result  had  attended  the  efforts  of 
spies  such  as  Lody,  Rosenthal,  Kiipferle,  Muller,  Hahn, 
all  of  whom  could  only  be  regarded  as  stopgaps 
against  the  time  when  it  would  be  possible  to 
establish  something  like  a  regular  system  of  agents, 
who  could  be  depended  upon  to  obtain  authentic 
intelligence  of  our  naval  and  military  preparations  and 
intentions. 

In  the  light  of  subsequent  happenings  it  is  plainly 
evident  that  the  Great  General  Staff  had  been  taught 
a  lesson  which  they  never  afterwards  forgot — that 


100 


The  Second  Campaign  101 

it  was  utterly  useless  sending  Germans  here.  And 
it  is  quite  possible  that  the  espionage  experts  of  the 
Wilhelmstrasse  even  negatived  the  employment  of 
Germans  resident  in  Great  Britain  before  the  war, 
people  who  had  escaped  internment  and  who  therefore 
possessed  the  possibility  of  obtaining  information 
which  might  be  of  real  value.  It  seems  quite  certain 
that  the  Germans  never  failed  to  remember  the  manner 
in  which  we  had  tricked  them  over  Kiipferle  and 
Muller.  The  latter  instance  must  have  been  a  sore 
blow  to  their  arrogance,  for  Muller  was  a  spy  who, 
unknown  to  us  as  such,  had  been  living  in  England 
for  some  considerable  time  prior  to  the  war,  and  his 
early  capture,  to  say  nothing  of  the  way  in  which 
we  fooled  his  employers,  would  appear  to  have 
thoroughly  convinced  the  Hun  of  one  thing  :  if  his 
espionage  in  England  was  to  come  to  anything, 
neutrals  would  have  to  be  employed.  So  it  would 
seem  that  instructions  were  issued  to  the  master  spies 
in  Holland  and  Belgium  that  the  most  stringent  efforts 
were  to  be  made  to  obtain  neutrals  for  the  work— the 
Germans  called  it  “  manoeuvre.”  For  obvious  reasons 
it  was  politic  to  induce  men  and  women  of  German 
origin  to  take  up  the  profession  of  spy,  but  it  remained 
an  essential  condition  that  such  people  should  live  in 
a  neutral  country  and  speak  its  language  fluently 
enough  to  absolve  them  from  suspicion  when  the 
inevitable  inquiry  came. 

This  marked  the  beginning  of  an  espionage  campaign 
which  kept  our  authorities  extremely  busy  in  May 
and  June,  1915.  It  is  greatly  to  the  credit  of  the 
officials  concerned  that  the  German  plans  were  so 
quickly  nipped  in  the  bud,  for  the  expeditious  manner 
in  which  we  dealt  with  this  batch  of  mercenaries  must 


102  German  Spies  at  Bay 

have  convinced  the  Germans  that  it  was  a  waste  of 
time  trying  to  cover  England  with  a  network  of  their 
spies. 

****** 

Comedy  and  tragedy  were  strangely  intermingled 
in  the  first  of  the  cases  which  inaugurated  the  opening 
of  the  new  espionage  organization. 

The  particulars  volunteered  by  the  captured  spy 
Robert  Rosenthal  as  to  the  methods  adopted  by  the 
Germans  forewarned  us  that  we  should  have  to  look 
for  enemy  agents  in  the  guise  of  commercial  travellers 
of  quasi-neutral  origin,  and  as  a  consequence  the 
strictest  watch  was  being  kept  on  all  such  people 
seeking  to  enter  this  country,  while  all  their  communi¬ 
cations,  especially  those  to  Holland,  underwent 
searching  tests  before  we  permitted  them  to  leave 
these  islands.  There  was  good  ground  for  suspecting 
that  certain  information  had  leaked  out  one  way  and 
another,  principally  in  regard  to  the  movements  of 
ships,  and  we  meant  to  take  no  further  unnecessary 
risks. 

Shortly  after  Rosenthal  had  been  run  to  earth, 
the  officials  of  our  cable  censorship  were  rather  as¬ 
tounded  to  receive  messages  destined  for  Holland, 
purporting  to  order  huge  quantities  of  cigars.  One 
fact  which  alone  was  suspicious  was  that  most  of  these 
telegrams  emanated  from  naval  ports,  and  to  anyone 
who  knows  Jack  there  is  one  thing  more  positive 
than  another — that  is,  that  he  is  not  a  smoker  of 
cigars.  And  yet  telegrams  were  coming  in  from  places 
such  as  Portsmouth,  Chatham,  Devonport,  Dover,  order¬ 
ing  from  an  address  at  The  Hague  all  sorts  of  impossible 
quantities  of  cigars.  The  messages  asked  for  10,000 


103 


The  Cigar  Travellers 

Cabanas,  4,000  Rothschilds,  3,000  Coronas.  There 
was  something  radically  wrong,  so  the  authorities 
that  be  decided  that  they  would  like  to  interview  the 
enterprising  travellers  who  were  doing  such  wonderful 
business.  We  knew  something  about  the  address  to 
which  they  were  telegraphing.  So  the  fiat  went  forth 
to  have  the  pair  brought  to  London.  One  was  arrested 
in  Southampton,  the  other  at  an  hotel  in  Aldgate, 
his  headquarters  while  doing  the  sights  of  London. 
They  were  taken  to  Scotland  Yard  for  interrogation. 
The  first  man  to  be  examined  was  a  saturnine,  black- 
bearded  individual,  who  told  us  his  name  was  Haicke 
Petrus  Marinus  Janssen,  that  he  was  thirty  years  of 
age  (he  certainly  looked  fifty),  and  that  by  profession 
he  was  a  seaman.  When  we  asked  him  whether  he 
was  acquainted  with  any  Germans,  he  said  that  he  had 
never  been  in  Germany  in  his  life.  “  I  am  a  Dutch¬ 
man,”  he  replied.  “  I  do  not  like  the  Germans.” 

“  But  how  is  it  that  your  employers  (Dierks  and  Co.) 
engage  a  seaman  as  a  traveller  in  cigars  ?  ”  was  our 
next  question.  “  Surely  there  are  plenty  of  ex¬ 
perienced  men  in  such  a  country  as  Holland  ?  ” 

"  That  I  cannot  say,”  said  Janssen.  “  I  was  unable 
to  obtain  a  berth  as  officer  on  a  steamer,  and  took 
the  offer  of  coming  to  England  to  sell  cigars  until 
such  time  as  I  could  find  more  suitable  employment.” 

“  And  what  do  you  know  about  Messrs.  Dierks  and 
Co.?  ”  persisted  his  interrogator.  "  Have  they  a  large 
office  ?  ” 

“  No,”  replied  the  Dutchman.  “  I  was  introduced 
to  Mr.  Dierks  by  a  friend  who  said  that  I  could  speak 
English  and  was  looking  for  work.  Mr.  Dierks  took 
me  to  his  office.  It  is  a  small  place,  and  so  far  as  I 
could  see  he  employed  only  one  clerk.” 


104 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

"  Has  Mr.  Dierks  any  other  representative  in 
England,”  we  inquired. 

“  No,”  said  Janssen,  “  I  am  his  only  traveller  in 
this  country.” 

“  Would  it  surprise  you  to  learn  that  the  address 
of  Messrs.  Dierks  and  Co.  is  that  of  a  member  of  the 
German  Secret  Service  ?  ”  we  asked  blandly. 

Janssen,  changing  colour,  alleged  that  it  would. 

“  Well,  it  is  so,”  we  said  ;  “  and,  furthermore,  we 
think  that  you  are  a  German  spy.  You  will  be  de¬ 
tained  for  further  inquiries.” 

Before  he  was  taken  away  we  again  asked  him 
whether  he  had  an  accomplice.  “  Do  you  know  a 
man  named  Roos  ?  ”  we  asked. 

“  No,  I  do  not  know  him,”  said  Janssen. 

He  was  taken  outside,  where,  in  the  passage,  the 
other  suspect  was  awaiting  interrogation.  What 
passed  between  the  pair  will  never  be  known  now. 
Whatever  it  may  have  been,  it  was  sufficient  to  make 
the  second  man  understand  that  the  game  was  up. 
However,  he  came  into  the  room  jauntily  enough, 
and  answered  our  first  question  with  a  smile. 

“  Did  you  know  that  man  who  has  just  gone  out  ?  ” 
we  inquired. 

“  Oh,  yes,”  was  the  reply.  “  That  is  Janssen.  I 
know  him  very  well.  We  met  over  at  The  Hague. 
We  were  both  engaged  as  travellers  for  Dierks  and 
Co.” 

The  newcomer  said  his  name  was  Willem  Johannes 
Roos,  and  added  that  he,  too,  was  a  seaman.  Janssen 
was  brought  back  into  the  room  and  again  asked 
whether  he  knew  Roos.  “  No,  I  do  not,”  he  said. 
“  I  am  the  only  person  authorized  to  act  for  Dierks 
and  Co.” 


Comedy  and  Drama  105 

Roos,  who  appeared  to  be  enjoying  the  proceedings 
immensely,  kept  making  grimaces  at  his  companion, 
but  the  other  would  have  none  of  it.  Perhaps  he 
possessed  a  better  conception  of  the  serious  predica¬ 
ment  he  was  in.  Whatever  the  reason,  he  would  admit 
nothing,  so,  in  company  with  Roos,  he  was  lodged  in 
Cannon  Row  police  station  for  the  night. 

It  would  seem  that  the  light-hearted  demeanour 
of  Roos  was  but  a  cover  for  the  more  serious  purpose 
he  had  in  mind.  Somewhere  about  seven  o’clock 
at  night  he  complained  to  the  station  sergeant  of 
feeling  the  necessity  of  exercise,  and  asked  that  he 
might  be  permitted  to  stretch  his  legs  in  the  station 
yard.  The  authorities  could  not  very  well  refuse 
such  a  privilege  in  view  of  the  fact  that  he  had  not 
yet  been  charged  with  any  definite  offence,  so  Roos, 
guarded  by  two  policemen,  walked  up  and  down  for 
an  hour. 

On  his  way  back  to  the  cells  he  suddenly  dashed 
himself  at  a  glass  door  which  opened  into  the  yard, 
throwing  his  manacled  hands  at  the  glass  with  a  roar 
of  unintelligible  words.  If  it  was  suicide  he  con¬ 
templated  the  attempt  was  not  successful.  All  that 
happened  was  that  he  cut  his  hands  and  wrists  severely. 
No  surgeon  being  available  at  the  time,  the  police 
took  him  over  to  Westminster  Hospital,  where  one 
of  the  staff  bandaged  him  up,  informing  the  somewhat 
worried  police  that  no  serious  danger  need  be  ap¬ 
prehended  and  that  there  was  no  necessity  to  detain 
the  supposed  spy  in  the  hospital.  So  Roos  was 
locked  up  in  a  cell  for  the  night,  to  await  removal  to 
Brixton  Prison  on  the  morrow. 

An  examination  of  the  suspected  men’s  belongings 
led  us  to  believe  that  writing  in  secret  ink  had  gone 


106 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

out  of  fashion  for  the  moment.  Both  Janssen  and 
Roos  were  in  possession  of  a  perfume  which  on  analysis 
proved  to  be  usable  as  a  secret  ink,  although  there  was 
no  evidence  that  either  had  attempted  to  forward 
hidden  messages  with  it.  Their  means  of  communica¬ 
tion  was  evidently  a  code  in  the  form  of  orders  for 
cigars.  The  cipher  was  simplicity  itself.  Cabanas 
meant  light  cruisers,  Coronas  battleships,  Rothschilds 
destroyers,  and  so  on.  Unfortunately,  Messrs.  Janssen 
and  Roos  do  not  appear  to  have  taken  one  salient 
fact  into  their  calculations.  They  never  dreamt 
that  the  ordering  of  large  quantities  of  expensive 
cigars  from  naval  ports  was  otherwise  than  an  every¬ 
day  proceeding.  Still  more  unluckily  for  them  do 
they  seem  to  have  omitted  to  appreciate  the  danger 
which  lay  in  communicating  with  a  man  who  was  well- 
known  to  us  as  one  of  the  heads  of  the  German  spy 
organization,  an  individual  afterwards  imprisoned 
by  the  Dutch  Government  owing  to  his  undue  lack 
of  regard  for  international  complications.  Both  men 
were  given  the  opportunity  of  proving  that  their 
errand  in  England  was  bona  fide  business.  This  they 
failed  to  do  :  they  could  not  produce  one  genuine 
order.  Under  the  circumstances,  the  authorities 
had  no  hesitation  in  bringing  them  to  trial  by  court- 
martial. 

Counsel,  briefed  by  the  Government,  defended  the 
accused  men  with  the  utmost  ability  when  the  trial 
took  place,  on  July  16th,  but  the  result  was  a  foregone 
conclusion.  Both  were  found  guilty  and  sentenced 
to  death  by  shooting. 

A  few  days  after  they  had  been  convicted  both 
men  confessed  their  guilt.  Janssen,  especially,  who 
throughout  all  the  proceedings  had  preserved  an  atti- 


107 


A  Sad  Ending 

tude  of  stoical  indifference,  grew  more  communicative 
when  told  that  he  was  to  be  executed.  He  blamed 
the  Germans  for  tempting  him  to  work  against  the 
English  when  in  reality  all  his  sympathies  were  with 
us,  all  the  more  so  that  he  had  not  long  previously 
been  honoured  by  the  English  Government.  This 
referred  to  a  silver  medal  granted  him  by  our  Board 
of  Trade  in  recognition  of  the  lives  he  had  saved  on 
the  emigrant  steamer  Volturno,  a  Dutch  vessel,  burnt 
at  sea  in  October,  1913,  when  more  than  400  lives 
were  lost,  owing  to  a  panic  which  set  in.  The 
Volturno’ s  wireless  call  for  help  was  responded  to  by 
other  vessels,  Janssen  being  one  of  a  ship’s  crew 
which  was  able  to  assist  in  the  saving  of  nearly  500 
lives.  In  his  last  days  Janssen  gave  us  a  great  deal 
of  assistance  in  the  particulars  he  furnished  with 
regard  to  the  enemy  organization  in  Holland,  informa¬ 
tion  which  enabled  us  to  trace  many  spies  who  sub¬ 
sequently  came  to  this  country.  Whether  he  thought 
this  would  save  his  life  we  never  learnt.  Probably 
he  did,  although  there  was  never  any  possibility  of 
this  taking  place. 

Roos  proved  to  be  of  different  metal.  While  in 
prison  he  continually  shammed  insanity,  a  plea  his 
counsel  had  put  forward  at  his  trial,  with  proof  to  the 
effect  that  his  client  claimed  to  have  discovered 
the  secret  of  perpetual  motion  !  The  authorities  had 
the  condemned  man  closely  examined  by  mental 
experts,  but  no  evidence  was  found  to  support  the 
contention.  It  was  decided  that  both  Janssen  and 
Roos  should  die,  and  as  the  two  men  had  worked  to¬ 
gether  the  authorities  arranged  that  they  should  die 
together. 

On  July  30th,  1915,  there  was  a  scene  in  the  Tower 


108  German  Spies  at  Bay 

of  London  which  for  grimness  was  never  surpassed 
during  the  war.  In  the  early  dawn  Janssen  was 
led  forth  to  face  the  firing  party.  His  iron  nerve, 
which  had  not  deserted  him  throughout,  held  good 
to  the  finish  and  he  died  as  he  had  lived,  a  brave  man. 

Ten  minutes  later  Roos  was  brought  into  the  minia¬ 
ture  rifle  range.  His  alleged  insanity  had  by  this  time 
departed.  He  had  regained  his  normal  self  and  eyed 
the  fatal  chair,  from  which  the  bleeding  body  of  his 
accomplice  had  just  been  removed,  with  a  fair  show 
of  indifference,  begging  leave  to  finish  the  cigarette 
he  had  requested  as  a  last  favour.  That  ended,  he 
took  one  last  look  at  it,  then  threw  it  away  with  a 
gesture  which  represented  utter  contempt  to  all  the 
frailties  of  this  earth.  With  apparently  no  more 
interest  in  the  proceedings,  he  seated  himself  in  the 
chair.  There  was  a  momentary  twitching  of  the 
face  as  they  fastened  the  bandage  around  his  face, 
but  that  was  all.  He,  too,  died  bravely,  and  met  his 
fate  with  a  courage  which  could  evoke  nothing  but 
admiration. 

By  the  execution  of  Janssen  and  Roos,  and  the  im¬ 
prisonment  of  other  suspects  whose  fate  was  kept 
secret,  neutrals  in  Holland  and  elsewhere  began  to 
realize  that  the  undertaking  of  an  espionage  mission 
to  England  was  a  work  of  great  danger  and  difficulty. 
The  mysterious  disappearance  of  many  German  agents 
who  came  here  was  bruited  about  in  Holland,  and  in 
consequence  the  Germans  were  compelled  to  offer 
much  larger  sums  of  money,  with  liberal  promises 
of  other  payments  on  the  successful  conclusion  of  the 
mission,  to  people  willing  to  turn  German  spy.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  it  would  appear  that  for  the  immediate 
present  the  enemy  were  obliged  to  try  further  afield. 


A  Fortnight’s  “  Bag  ” 


109 


South  America  and  the  United  States  were  tried, 
but  the  agents  who  came  from  these  places  fared  no 
better  than  did  their  forerunners  from  Holland  and 
other  European  countries. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

From  the  end  of  May  until  about  the  middle  of 
June,  1915,  just  a  fortnight,  no  less  than  seven  enemy 
agents  were  arrested.  This  achievement  created  a 
record  which  was  never  surpassed  throughout  the  war. 
It  might  be  called  a  red-letter  fortnight,  and  at  first 
the  War  Office  was  rather  alarmed,  it  being  thought 
that  the  Germans  had  succeeded  in  evolving  some 
method  of  getting  spies  into  the  country  unbeknown 
to  the  authorities.  Certainly  the  number  captured 
appeared  too  numerous  to  be  altogether  pleasant. 
In  a  very  few  days,  however,  it  was  ascertained  that 
there  was  nothing  to  be  alarmed  about.  All  the 
spies  were  members  of  the  same  gang,  and  represented 
a  determined  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  Germans  to 
establish  resident  agents  who,  under  the  cloak  of 
neutrality,  could  forward  periodical  reports  of  what 
was  happening  in  this  country. 

In  one  way  there  was  nothing  abnormal  about  such 
wholesale  arrests.  Nine  or  ten  months  after  the 
outbreak  of  war  had  enabled  us  to  create  an  extensive 
counter-espionage  organization  throughout  the  world, 
and  the  seven  captured  during  the  fortnight  represented 
the  first  fruits  of  the  new  system.  It  would  have  been 
a  poor  tribute  to  the  elaborate  censorships,  added  to 
the  rigorous  port  control  then  in  existence,  if  the 
precautions  adopted  had  not  proved  successful. 
Sooner  or  later  it  was  only  to  be  expected  that  the 


110 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Germans  would  try  and  re-establish  some  source  of 
intelligence  :  we  could  only  be  grateful  for  the  fact 
that  the  attempt  came  so  early  in  the  war  and  was  made 
with  such  poor  material.  The  scheme  showed  that 
Steinhauer  had  learnt  nothing  by  experience  :  if  he 
did  not  delude  himself  then  he  succeeded  in  persuading 
a  good  many  otherwise  innocent  neutrals  that  the 
simplest  thing  in  the  world  was  to  spy  on  the  “  silly 
Englischers  ” — as  he  was  fond  of  referring  to  us. 
This  second  attempt,  of  May-June,  1915,  was  never 
repeated.  From  that  time  onward  the  Germans  were 
perforce  contented  with  sending  over  individual 
agents  (casuals),  whose  modus  operandi  was  to  come 
to  England  on  some  pretended  commercial  business 
and  try  to  get  away  before  their  movements  aroused 
any  suspicion.  These  spies  relied  on  their  memory 
to  transmit  to  their  employers  anything  they  had 
seen  or  heard  ;  they  committed  nothing  to  writing 
if  they  could  possibly  help  it.  Typical  instances 
of  this  were  to  be  found  in  the  cases  of  Fernando 
Buschman  and  Irving  Guy  Ries,  both  of  whom  I 
shall  mention  in  greater  detail  later. 

As  many  of  the  people  suspected  of  this  particular 
form  of  espionage  were  detained  in  Brixton  Prison 
before  being  permitted  to  leave  the  country,  pending 
inquiries  which  might  take  a  month  or  more,  it  will 
readily  be  seen  that  if  they  did  contemplate  supplying 
information  to  the  enemy  it  would  be  practically 
valueless,  being  out  of  date  by  the  time  they  got  back. 
It  is  quite  certain  that  the  Germans  did  obtain  news 
in  this  way,  although  one  could  feel  more  than  positive 
that  its  authenticity  was  open  to  question.  Our  naval 
and  military  secrets  were  not  exactly  on  tap  for  any 
foreigner  who  chose  to  inquire.  Many  of  these  cases 


Ill 


Neutral  Suspects 

were  naturally  the  cause  of  some  little  anxiety,  as  it 
was  not  easy  to  establish  the  suspect’s  connection 
with  the  German  Secret  Service  and  procure  evidence 
sufficient  to  meet  the  requirements  of  a  court-martial. 
The  difficulty  was  partially  met  by  giving  such  people 
a  long  period  of  detention  under  the  Defence  of  the 
Realm  Act.  There  were  plenty  of  them  whom  we 
knew  to  be  German  agents  :  the  trouble  lay  in  the  fact 
that  we  dealt  with  our  spies  in  constitutional  fashion. 
We  did  not  stand  them  up  against  a  wall  and  shoot 
them,  as  more  unconventional  nations  have  done 
for  centuries  past. 

About  the  time  of  the  arrest  of  the  seven,  one  of 
this  type  of  suspect  had  been  released  and  deported 
to  his  native  land  after  being  thoroughly  searched, 
interrogated  at  Scotland  Yard  two  or  three  times,  and 
detained  for  a  period  in  Brixton  Prison.  We  learnt 
that  this  individual,  on  returning  home,  had  told  all 
and  sundry  that  the  English  authorities  knew  all 
about  the  German  espionage  system,  and  that  anyone 
undertaking  a  mission  here  would  be  sure  to  be 
discovered. 

Another  “  neutral,”  suspected  of  communicating 
with  the  enemy,  had  been  taken  off  a  ship  in  the  North 
Sea,  committed  to  the  Tower  of  London,  where  he 
remained  for  three  months,  after  which  he  had  to 
stand  his  trial  before  being  released.  There  was 
very  little  doubt  about  the  guilt  of  this  person,  although 
we  could  not  get  enough  evidence  to  satisfy  his  judges 
that  he  was  guilty.  When  released  he  went  to  America, 
and  returned  to  his  own  country  (Sweden)  by  way 
of  Siberia  rather  than  face  the  ordeal  of  complying 
with  British  regulations  regarding  aliens  who  landed 
here.  One  experience  was  enough  in  a  lifetime  for 


112 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

would-be  spies  not  over-endowed  with  moral  or 
physical  courage. 

With  such  conditions  as  these  prevailing  it  is  not 
to  be  wondered  at  that  seven  spies  were  arrested  in  a 
fortnight.  Two  of  the  seven,  Janssen  and  Roos, 
have  already  been  dealt  with.  The  next  two  were 
a  man  and  a  woman,  the  first  woman  to  be  arrested 
here  during  the  war  as  a  German  spy.  Their  names 
were  Georg  T.  Breeckow,  alias  Reginald  Rowland 
(the  name  he  was  tried  and  condemned  in),  alias 
George  T.  Parker,  and  Mrs.  Lizzie  Wertheim.  Psy¬ 
chologically,  this  pair  were  about  as  interesting  speci¬ 
mens  of  the  spy  as  came  our  way  during  the  war, 
although  from  the  German  point  of  view  they  proved 
utterly  valueless  as  agents. 

Breeckow  was  one  of  those  long-fingered,  thin¬ 
faced  individuals  so  common  on  the  concert  plat¬ 
form.  During  the  time  he  was  in  London  he  spent 
a  most  enjoyable  holiday  in  the  West  End,  where  he 
was  a  regular  patron  of  the  more  expensive  restaurants 
and  cafes.  Speaking  very  fair  English,  the  German 
accent  of  which  was  partially  disguised  by  a  liberal 
besprinkling  of  Americanisms,  he  managed  to  pass 
muster  with  quite  a  number  of  well-known  people  as 
Reginald  Rowland,  a  well-to-do  American  travelling 
in  England  for  his  health. 

Prior  to  leaving  Holland,  Breeckow  had  been  fur¬ 
nished  with  the  address  of  a  woman  named  Lizzie 
Wertheim,  who,  he  was  informed,  was  prepared  to 
act  as  his  accomplice.  The  enemy  Secret  Service, 
forewarned  by  the  fate  which  had  overtaken  their 
previous  spies,  thought  that  a  woman  might  be  able 
to  obtain  intelligence  where  a  man  would  only  arouse 
suspicion. 


The  First  Woman 


113 


Mrs.  Wertheim,  who  proved  to  be  living  in  a  Blooms¬ 
bury  boarding  house,  had  been  in  England  for  some 
years.  She  had  acquired  British  nationality  by  marry¬ 
ing  a  naturalized  German,  who  had  long  ago  tired  of 
the  immoral  life  she  was  addicted  to  and  had  separated 
from  her,  so  that  there  was  an  excellent  chance  of  her 
being  able  to  travel  around  England  without  attract¬ 
ing  too  much  attention.  She  was  a  stout,  well-dressed 
woman,  typically  German  in  her  fondness  for  the 
grosser  pleasures  of  life,  and  she  welcomed  the  arrival 
of  Breeckow,  who  had  plenty  of  money  to  spend,  as 
a  gift  from  the  Gods. 

Mrs.  Wertheim  is  believed  to  have  been  born  in 
Berlin,  where,  before  her  marriage  with  Bruno  Wer¬ 
theim  in  1902  (the  son  of  a  naturalized  British  sub¬ 
ject),  she  is  reported  to  have  been  a  demi-mondaine. 
She  had  led  a  somewhat  roving  life,  and  seemed  to 
be  equally  at  home  in  Berlin,  The  Hague,  Amsterdam, 
or  London,  where  she  had  distant  relatives,  who  showed 
no  desire  to  be  on  friendly  terms  with  her. 

Writers  of  fiction  have  founded  many  of  their  plots 
on  the  idea  of  a  female  spy,  and  have  endowed  her  with 
the  superlative  mental  and  physical  qualities  which 
they  considered  necessary  for  her  dangerous  calling. 
The  records  of  the  Secret  Service  contain  the  names 
of  many  women  known  to  have  been  engaged  in 
espionage,  some  of  whom  might  well  serve  as  models 
for  a  biographer,  but  it  is  rather  doubtful  whether 
Mrs.  Wertheim  could  be  included  in  the  list,  without 
adding  considerably  to  the  ascertained  facts  of  her 
career.  She  certainly  possessed  what  some  might 
call  an  attractive  appearance,  and  might  be  considered 
temperamentally  suited  for  the  nature  of  the  work  she 
had  undertaken,  but  against  this  she  herself  con- 

8 


114 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

fessed  that  she  was  a  cocaine  taker,  a  practice  which 
could  not  have  assisted  her  in  her  work,  and  probably 
prevented  her  from  becoming  an  agent,  say,  for  instance, 
of  the  type  of  Matahari,  who  was  on  a  much  higher 
plane,  and  was  almost  an  exact  counterpart  of  some 
of  the  spies  of  fiction. 

Before  proceeding  with  their  spying  the  pair  indulged 
in  a  burst  of  gaiety.  They  would  hire  horses  of  a 
morning  and  take  the  air  in  Rotten  Row  along  with 
the  scions  of  our  aristocracy,  and  at  lunch  time  repair 
to  a  fashionable  cafe,  where  they  would  intermingle 
with  the  cosmopolitan  crowd  always  to  be  found  in 
such  places  about  the  middle  of  the  day.  It  would 
appear  that  Mrs.  Wertheim  began  to  contract  ex¬ 
travagant  habits,  so  much  so  that  her  male  companion 
was  moved  to  expostulate  with  her,  and  eventually  to 
mention  the  fact  to  his  employers  in  Holland.  She 
insisted  that  it  was  necessary  to  maintain  the  dignity 
of  her  pose  by  possession  of  a  maid,  and  when  she  and 
Breeckow  went  to  the  South  Coast  for  week-end 
holidays  she  always  insisted  that  they  should  travel 
first-class.  All  this  fitted  in  very  well  with  Breeckow’s 
personal  inclinations  :  he  was  at  all  times  addicted 
to  the  line  of  least  resistance. 

It  was  arranged  that  Mrs.  Wertheim  should  do  the 
spying,  and  that  her  accomplice  should  forward  the 
information  received  to  Holland.  With  that  purpose 
the  lady  proceeded  to  Scotland,  where  she  hired  a 
motor-car  and  began  travelling  around  to  pick  up  what 
news  she  could  concerning  the  Grand  Fleet.  The 
plan  was  not  a  bad  one,  certainly,  for  who  was  to 
suspect  a  well-dressed  woman,  apparently  of  British 
nationality,  of  being  interested  in  naval  matters. 

Mrs.  Wertheim  appears  to  have  spent  quite  an 


Cowardice  and  Courage  115 

interesting  time  in  the  North.  She  patronized  all 
the  best  hotels,  and  made  herself  more  than  agreeable 
to  those  naval  officers  with  whom  she  came  in  contact. 
But  she  was  seemingly  unaware  of  the  fact  that  dis¬ 
cretion  is  better  than  valour,  for  some  of  her  questions 
so  aroused  suspicion  of  her  bona  fides  that  it  was 
resolved  to  arrest  her.  Breeckow’s  address  was  ob¬ 
tained  from  her,  and  the  pair,  protesting  volubly  that 
a  mistake  had  been  made,  were  brought  to  Scotland 
Yard  to  be  interrogated  as  to  their  business  in  England. 

Then  the  true  nature  of  the  man  revealed  itself. 
He  burst  into  a  torrent  of  explanation,  in  which  his 
German  accent  too  clearly  revealed  itself.  He  was 
an  American  subject,  he  said,  and  had  only  come  to 
England  to  further  his  musical  studies.  All  the  time 
the  examination  was  going  on  his  nervous  force  was 
gradually  going  to  pieces.  As  the  remorseless  ques¬ 
tioning  continued  his  anxiety  grew  terrible  to  witness, 
and  as  one  damaging  fact  after  another  was  established 
he  would  ask  his  interrogator  what  was  to  be  the 
result  of  it  all.  At  the  finish  he  burst  into  tears, 
and,  sobbing  through  his  hands,  beseeched  his  captors 
to  have  mercy  on  him,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  his  aged 
mother. 

Mrs.  Wertheim  proved  to  be  of  much  sterner  stuff. 
She  would  admit  nothing,  claimed  that  as  a  British 
citizen  she  had  a  perfect  right  to  travel  where  she 
would  and  was  so  brazen  and  impudent  that  could 
she  and  Breeckow  have  arranged  to  tell  the  same 
story  it  would  have  been  quite  substantial  evidence. 
So  the  pair  were  relieved  of  all  their  belongings  and 
placed  under  lock  and  key  for  the  night.  In  the 
meantime  the  authorities  made  further  investigations. 

Any  doubt  that  Breeckow  was  a  spy  was  dissipated 

8* 


116 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

when  his  passport  came  to  be  examined.  The  texture 
of  the  paper  was  dissimilar  to  that  used  in  the  American 
passports  and  its  size  was  not  quite  the  same.  The 
red  seal,  when  touched  with  acid,  proved  to  be  different 
from  those  which  we  knew  to  be  genuine,  while  the 
American  Eagle  on  the  official  seal  had  been  drawn 
with  an  inverted  claw  and  without  enough  feathers 
in  his  tail.  Also,  an  inquiry  was  sent  to  Washington, 
where  it  was  ascertained  that  no  passport  had  ever 
been  issued  to  anyone  of  the  name  of  Reginald  Row¬ 
land. 

Bit  by  bit  the  doings  of  this  interesting  couple 
were  gradually  unravelled.  It  seemed  that  Breeckow 
was  the  son  of  a  respectable  pianoforte  tuner  in 
Stettin,  and  that  he  was  born  in  that  town  in  1884. 
His  father  apprenticed  him  to  the  trade,  and  there 
is  no  question  that,  in  addition  to  becoming  a  very 
good  pianist,  he  possessed  a  fair  technical  knowledge 
of  piano-making,  which  he  had  learnt  in  Hanover. 
About  the  year  1908  he  emigrated  to  America,  with 
the  idea  of  starting  in  business  for  himself,  a  pre¬ 
liminary  to  which  was  the  taking  out  of  first  naturaliza¬ 
tion  papers.  But  his  claim  to  be  a  full  American 
citizen  could  not  be  substantiated  :  his  nationaliza¬ 
tion  had  never  been  completed.  Before  war  had  been 
declared  he  had  become  known  to  the  gang  of  German 
Secret  Service  agents  who  were  using  their  Embassy 
as  a  cloak  for  their  nefarious  work,  and  Breeckow 
drifted  into  their  confidence  to  such  an  extent  that 
he  promised  to  undertake  espionage  in  Great  Britain. 
So  a  passage  back  to  Germany  was  provided  for  him, 
and  after  serving  in  the  army  for  some  little  time  he 
was  drafted  to  the  spy  school  at  Antwerp,  the  while 
a  passport  was  being  fabricated  for  him.  A  liberal 


Georg  T.  Breeckow.  Execution  Chair  used  in  the  Tower  of  London. 


Confession  ! 


117 


supply  of  money  was  made  available  to  him,  and  he 
was  instructed  to  get  into  touch  with  Mrs.  Wertheim 
and  utilize  her  to  obtain  information  of  naval  im¬ 
portance.  All  the  commoner  tricks  of  his  newly 
assumed  trade,  such  as  writing  messages  in  lemon 
juice  between  the  lines  of  letters  and  on  the  margins 
of  newspapers,  had  been  learnt  while  in  the  spy  school. 
If  opportunity  offered  he  was  to  send  telegrams  to 
Holland  in  a  commercial  code  which  had  been  specially 
arranged  for  him.  The  one  thing  his  countrymen 
could  not  provide  him  with  was  the  all-necessary  savoir 
faire,  which  is  so  essential  to  the  successful  spy. 

While  under  interrogation  Breeckow  stoutly  main¬ 
tained  that  he  could  not  speak  German,  knew  no  Ger¬ 
mans  in  America,  and  had  never  served  in  the 
German  Army.  So,  in  company  with  the  woman,  he 
was  removed  to  prison,  where  the  expected  happened. 

He  had  displayed  a  certain  amount  of  hardihood 
while  there  seemed  a  chance  of  release,  but,  once  in  the 
lonely  prison  cell,  terrified  at  the  things  his  female 
accomplice  might  tell,  his  fears  so  played  upon  his 
fertile  imagination  that  he  sent  for  the  Governor  of  the 
prison  and  requested  that  he  might  be  supplied  with 
pen  and  paper  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  con¬ 
fession. 

The  admission  of  his  guilt  was  voluminous  to  a 
degree,  and  told  everything  of  his  past  life,  concluding 
with  a  passionate  appeal  for  mercy,  nauseating  in 
the  extreme  in  the  cowardice  it  revealed. 

It  was  necessary  to  try  Breeckow  and  Mrs.  Wer¬ 
theim  by  civil  court,  the  woman  claiming  that  privilege 
as  a  naturalized  British  subject,  although  it  availed 
her  nothing  in  the  end.  They  were  tried  together 
at  the  Old  Bailey  on  September  20th,  before  three 


118 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

judges  of  the  High  Court,  and  were,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  found  guilty,  Breeckow  being  sentenced  to 
death,  and  Mrs.  Wertheim  to  ten  years’  penal  servi¬ 
tude,  it  being  considered  that  she  had  acted  under  the 
man’s  influence.  Breeckow  provided  a  pitiful  spec¬ 
tacle  as  he  left  the  dock  in  a  state  of  semi-collapse.  He 
subsequently  appealed  against  his  punishment,  but 
the  application  was  refused,  and  his  execution  was 
fixed  for  October  26th  at  the  Tower. 

The  last  scenes  in  Breeckow’s  misspent  life  will  live 
for  ever  in  the  memory  of  those  compelled  to  witness 
them.  During  the  five  weeks  which  elapsed  between 
his  condemnation  and  execution  the  spy  broke  down 
completely,  and  passed  the  time  in  a  state  of  apathetic 
existence  which  might  have  interested  a  psychologist, 
but  certainly  disgusted  the  hardened  military  officials 
entrusted  with  his  care.  On  the  morning  of  his  execu¬ 
tion  he  was  led  out  in  a  state  of  collapse.  When 
placed  in  the  death  chair  he  produced  a  lady’s  silk 
handkerchief,  evidently  a  relic  of  some  past  love  affair, 
and  requested  that  it  might  be  placed  around  his  eyes 
instead  of  the  usual  bandage.  But  when  the  sergeant- 
major  tried  to  meet  his  wishes,  it  was  found  that  the 
handkerchief  was  not  large  enough,  so  it  was  knotted 
to  the  bandage  and  then  tied. 

Breeckow  was  by  this  time  in  a  dreadful  state  of 
agitation.  He  was  literally  shivering  with  fright,  and 
it  was  difficult  to  keep  him  in  the  chair.  So  the  officer 
in  charge  told  those  strapping  him  in  to  hurry  up. 
The  last  preparations  were  quickly  gone  through : 
Breeckow’s  chest  was  bared  to  the  cold  morning  air, 
and  the  waiting  firing-party  came  up  to  the  aim.  The 
order  was  given  to  fire,  and  simultaneously  with  the 
crack  of  the  rifles  the  figure  in  the  chair  gave  one 


The  Virtuoso  of  the  Violin 


119 


tremendous,  sickening  bound.  There  is  little  doubt, 
as  was  subsequently  proved  at  the  inquest,  that 
Breeckow  had  died  of  heart-failure  before  the  bullets 
of  the  firing-party  had  reached  his  chest. 

Mrs.  Wertheim,  who  to  this  day  is  probably  ignorant 
of  her  companion’s  fate,  was  sent  to  Aylesbury  Convict 
Prison  to  serve  her  term,  and  there  she  still  remains. 

Of  a  totally  different  stamp  was  the  next  German 
agent  to  be  arrested.  This  was  a  pleasant-faced  young 
man  named  Fernando  Buschman,  who  was  captured 
in  London  after  he  had  been  in  England  only  a  fort¬ 
night.  Why  Buschman,  who  has  been  erroneously 
described  as  a  lieutenant  of  the  German  Navy,  ever 
lent  himself  to  the  machinations  of  the  enemy’s  Secret 
Service  is  a  mystery  which  proved  unfathomable. 
Not  only  was  he  a  gentleman,  but  there  could  have 
been  no  financial  necessity  for  him  to  undertake  such 
dangerous  work,  for  he  was  married  to  the  daughter  of 
a  millionaire  soap  manufacturer  of  Dresden,  who 
had  previously  kept  him  liberally  supplied  with  funds 
to  enable  him  to  further  his  studies  in  aviation.  And, 
in  addition  to  all  this,  he  played  the  violin  magnifi¬ 
cently,  and  impressed  everybody  with  the  genuineness 
of  his  artistic  proclivities. 

Perhaps  there  is  truth  in  the  common  saying,  “  Once 
a  German,  always  a  German,”  although  during  the  war 
we  proved  quite  definitely  that  there  were  thousands 
of  Germans  only  too  willing  to  work  against  the  Father- 
land  if  the  inducement  were  sufficiently  alluring. 
Buschman,  who  had  Latin  blood  in  his  veins — as  his 
Christian  name  implies — was  of  German  origin,  his 


120 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

father  having  become  a  naturalized  Brazilian.  He 
himself  was  born  in  Paris  during  a  visit  of  his  parents 
to  that  city,  but  all  his  younger  life  was  spent  in 
Brazil,  where  he  attended  a  German  school.  In  addi¬ 
tion  to  his  musicianly  abilities  Buschman  was  intensely 
interested  in  aviation.  He  himself  informed  us  that 
in  1911  the  French  Government  gave  him  permission 
to  use  the  Issy  aerodrome  for  experimental  purposes 
in  connection  with  an  aeroplane  he  had  invented.  In 
the  following  three  years  he  travelled  all  over  Europe, 
visiting  in  turn  Vienna,  Budapesth,  Berlin,  Madrid 
and  other  big  cities.  In  1914  he  appears  to  have  got 
mixed  up  with  the  German  Secret  Service,  although  it 
is  hard  to  understand  what  could  have  been  the  induce¬ 
ment.  Perhaps  patriotism  was  the  inspiring  motive. 
Whatever  the  cause,  he  visited  Las  Palmas  in  that 
year,  apparently  on  the  search  for  naval  information, 
and  from  there  proceeded  to  Spain,  and  thence  to  Genoa 
and  Hamburg.  In  1915  he  was  in  Barcelona  and 
Madrid,  and  then  in  Flushing,  after  which  he  went  on 
to  Antwerp  and  Rotterdam,  where  his  education  in 
espionage  was  completed. 

The  next  step  in  the  little  conspiracy  was  Busch¬ 
man’ s  arrival  in  England  in  the  guise  of  a  commercial 
traveller.  It  never  seemed  to  enter  the  heads  of  the 
Germans  that  if  they  wished  to  maintain  anything  like 
a  number  of  spies  in  this  country  it  would  be  wiser  to 
send  men  who  might  be  able  to  withstand  an  examina¬ 
tion  as  to  their  bona  fides.  Buschman  as  a  commercial 
traveller  was  obviously  an  impostor.  He  looked  more 
the  smart  young  man  so  common  in  the  West  End 
of  London.  However,  those  trifles  never  seemed  to 
worry  Germany’s  master  spies.  Perhaps  they  were 
only  too  thankful  to  get  hold  of  someone  who  would 


A  Short  Run  121 

do  their  dirty  work  for  them.  The  risk  meant  nothing 
to  them. 

With  a  forged  passport  in  his  possession  Buschman 
arrived  in  London,  and  put  up  at  a  famous  hotel 
in  the  Strand.  Heaven  alone  knows  why  so  many 
German  spies  made  a  bee-line  for  this  place.  It  was 
the  one  hotel  in  London  which  the  authorities  made  a 
habit  of  combing  regularly  for  enemy  agents,  rarely 
without  result.  Such  is  the  penalty  of  fame. 

Buschman,  accompanied  by  his  beloved  violin,  did 
not  stay  long  at  the  hotel.  Possibly  with  the  inten¬ 
tion  of  throwing  pursuers  off  the  track,  he  moved  a 
few  days  later  to  lodgings  in  Loughborough  Road, 
Brixton,  where  he  established  a  most  favourable  repu¬ 
tation  by  his  willingness  to  play  his  violin.  From 
Brixton  he  moved  to  South  Kensington,  and  after 
remaining  there  a  few  days,  seems  to  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  was  now  sufficiently  acquainted  with 
the  country  to  enable  his  espionage  mission  to  start. 

Like  practically  all  the  German  spies  at  that  time, 
Buschman’ s  aim  was  to  obtain  naval  information. 
We  thought  at  one  time  that  he  was  an  aeronautical 
spy,  in  view  of  his  experience  of  that  profession,  but 
dismissed  the  supposition  on  coming  to  the  conclusion 
that  at  that  stage  of  the  war  our  flying  strength  would 
hardly  be  causing  the  Germans  any  great  perturba¬ 
tion.  From  the  fact  that  he  visited  Portsmouth  and 
Southampton  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  Buschman 
was  a  naval  spy,  proof  of  this  being  found  later  in 
particulars  of  ships  which  we  found  marked  in  minute 
characters  on  some  of  his  papers.  Buschman’s  short 
career  in  espionage  came  to  an  end  owing  to  his  run¬ 
ning  short  of  money.  Being  quite  stranded,  he  wrote 
to  an  address  in  Holland  for  money.  It  was  decided 


122 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

by  the  authorities  to  apprehend  him  on  suspicion  of 
being  a  German  spy.  The  arrest  took  place  at  his 
lodgings  in  South  Kensington,  although  the  detectives 
from  Scotland  Yard  had  to  call  twice  before  the  sus¬ 
pected  man  could  be  seen.  On  the  first  occasion 
he  had  gone  out,  borrowing  half-a-crown  from  his 
landlady  to  pay  a  cab  fare,  which  quite  substantiated 
his  letter  to  Holland  saying  he  must  have  money 
immediately.  When  arrested  he  was  quite  penniless. 
To  the  detective  who  told  him  he  must  come  to  Scot¬ 
land  Yard  Buschman  said  :  “  What  have  you  against 
me  ?  I  will  show  you  everything  you  wish  to 
see.” 

Unfortunately  for  Buschman,  we  found  among  his 
belongings  enough  to  convict  him  without  any  admis¬ 
sions  on  his  behalf.  The  astonishment  of  the  counter¬ 
espionage  officials  may  be  imagined  when,  on  examining 
the  accused  man’s  passport,  they  saw  that  it  was 
written  in  the  well-known  handwriting  of  Flores,  the 
head  of  the  German  spy  school  in  Rotterdam.  Flores 
was  a  schoolmaster  who  gave  the  spies  their  last  in¬ 
structions  before  proceeding  to  England,  and  we  were 
quite  well  acquainted  with  his  caligraphy.  Buschman 
told  his  interrogators  at  Scotland  Yard  that  he  was  in 
England  for  the  purpose  of  selling  cheese,  bananas, 
potatoes,  safety  razors  and  other  odds  and  ends.  He 
also  added  that  while  in  France  he  had  sold  picric  acid, 
cloth  and  rifles.  It  seemed  rather  a  weird  combination 
of  goods  for  any  traveller  to  handle,  and  we  told  him 
so. 

“  And  what  is  the  name  of  the  firm  which  employs 
you  ?  ”  we  asked. 

“  It  is  Dierks  and  Co.,  of  The  Hague,”  answered 
Buschman. 


! 


[To  face  p.  122 


Old  Acquaintances  123 

“  Oh,  is  that  so  ?  ”  we  said.  “  The  last  time  we 
heard  of  them  they  were  cigar  merchants.” 

There  was  no  doubt  at  all  that  Buschman  was  a 
German  spy.  In  his  possession  we  found  traces  of 
many  well-remembered  friends.  There  was  a  letter 
from  our  old  acquaintance  Gneist,  the  German  Consul- 
General  in  Rotterdam,  known  to  us  from  the  beginning 
of  the  war  ;  another  from  Colonel  Ostertag,  the  German 
Military  Attache  in  Holland,  another  famous  spy 
organizer,  also  the  addresses  of  two  individuals  named 
Ivers  and  Van  Staa,  both  active  recruiters  for  the 
German  Secret  Service. 

According  to  the  particulars  found  in  his  papers, 
Buschman  had  planned  to  make  a  flying  trip  to 
England,  merely  jotting  down  in  what  he  thought  were 
undecipherable  characters  naval  information  acquired 
during  the  visit  to  Portsmouth  and  Southampton. 
Under  the  circumstances,  the  authorities  decided  to 
send  the  suspected  spy  for  trial  by  court-martial. 

He  was  tried  at  the  Westminster  Guildhall  on  Sep¬ 
tember  20th,  1915,  the  same  day  that  Breeckow  and  Mrs. 
Wertheim  were  facing  a  tribunal  of  justice  at  the  Old 
Bailey.  Like  Breeckow,  he  was  sentenced  to  death. 
But  in  that  fact  the  resemblance  finished.  Buschman 
accepted  his  fate  like  the  gentleman  of  fortune  he  had 
always  been,  thanking  his  judges  for  the  scrupulously 
fair  trial  he  had  been  given.  While  waiting  for  the 
sentence  to  be  carried  out  he  requested  that  his  violin 
might  be  given  to  him  as  a  solace  to  his  last  hours.  The 
application  was  sent  on  to  the  head  of  the  counter¬ 
espionage  section,  who  had  no  objections,  and  for  hours 
in  his  cell  Buschman  would  discourse  beautiful  music, 
totally  oblivious  of  the  death  which  awaited  him. 
When  taken  to  the  Tower  the  night  before  his  execu- 


124 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

tion  he  again  asked  for  his  violin.  It  was  given  to 
him,  and  for  hours  he  lost  himself  in  a  whirl  of  slow, 
dreamy  music  which  so  filled  his  heart  and  soul  that 
the  matter  of  his  approaching  death  seemed  to  have 
passed  out  of  his  memory.  Nobody  was  sorrier  than 
his  guard  when  the  time  came  to  lead  him  forth  for 
execution,  but  Buschman  did  not  appear  to  mind. 
Picking  up  his  violin  he  kissed  it  passionately,  saying  : 
"  Good-bye,  I  shall  not  want  you  any  more.”  He 
refused  to  have  his  eyes  bandaged,  and  sat  in  the  chair 
facing  the  rifles  with  a  courageous  smile  which  made 
the  hearts  of  the  men  composing  the  firing  party  ache 
with  pity  at  his  ignominious  end. 

****** 

Rather  a  startling  example  of  the  stern  necessity 
for  effectively  safeguarding  national  secrets  came  to 
light  in  June,  1915,  a  few  days  after  Fernando  Busch¬ 
man  had  been  captured.  This  particular  instance 
impressed  upon  us  the  undoubted  fact  that  the  Germans, 
by  some  means  or  another,  had  sources  of  information 
concerning  the  places  where  new  munitions  of  war 
were  either  being  manufactured  or  experimented  upon. 
Our  first  notification  of  something  being  wrong  came 
when  the  Postal  Censorship  intercepted  two  post¬ 
cards  addressed  to  someone  in  Rotterdam  who  was  on 
the  black  list. 

When  passed  on  to  those  who  made  a  speciality  of 
such  matters  it  was  seen  that  they  were  the  usual 
messages  German  spies  were  instructed  to  send  on 
arrival  in  this  country.  Harmless  enough  in  them¬ 
selves,  they  told  the  master  spy  in  Holland  that  the 
writer  was  safely  in  England  and  was  ready  to  com¬ 
mence  operations 


The  Uruguayan  Farmer  125 

The  postmark  on  the  cards  was  Edinburgh,  and 
instructions  were  forwarded  to  the  police  in  that  city 
to  try  and  trace  the  writer,  evidently  a  foreigner. 
After  a  few  days  the  Scottish  police  notified  the  counter¬ 
espionage  officials  that  they  had  detained  at  Tarbet, 
Loch  Lomond,  a  man  who  said  his  name  was  Augusto 
Alfredo  Roggen,  a  native  of  Uruguay,  South  America. 

On  arrival  at  Scotland  Yard  the  suspected  spy  proved 
to  be  a  dapper  little  dark-haired  individual,  who  in¬ 
formed  his  interrogator  that  he  had  been  born  in  Monte 
Video  in  1881,  that  he  had  come  to  England  for  the 
purpose  of  buying  agricultural  implements,  as  well  as 
stock,  and  that  by  some  curious  coincidence  he  had  gone 
to  Loch  Lomond  for  the  sake  of  his  health,  which, 
truth  to  tell,  appeared  remarkably  good.  When 
pressed  for  further  particulars,  he  admitted  that  his 
paternal  progenitor  was  a  German  by  birth,  naturalized 
in  Uruguay  in  1885.  He  himself  was  married  to  a 
German  woman,  and  he  made  no  secret  of  the  fact 
that  all  his  sympathies  were  with  Germany  in  the  war 
then  proceeding.  At  one  time  he  had  been  in  Ger¬ 
many  as  an  importer  of  dairy  produce  from  South 
America. 

It  would  seem  that  Roggen  was  one  of  the  many 
people  whom  the  Germans  managed  to  enlist  in  their 
Secret  Service  owing  to  his  knowledge  of  the  English 
language.  He  spoke  our  tongue  quite  well,  and  in  all 
probability  he  turned  spy  as  an  alternative  to  doing 
combative  military  service  for  the  Fatherland.  We 
learnt  later  of  some  curious  methods  adopted  by  the 
German  military  authorities  to  make  even  subjects 
of  another  country  serve  them,  if  their  services  were 
sufficiently  valuable,  one  particular  instance  being 
that  of  Roggen’s  brother.  When  we  requested  him  to 


126 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

explain  his  movements  of  the  past  few  years  Roggen 
informed  us  that  in  March,  1914,  he  had  been  in  Ham 
burg,  arriving  there  from  Monte  Video,  and  that,  aftei 
travelling  over  Germany,  he  had  gone  to  Switzerland, 
not  long  before  the  outbreak  of  war.  In  May  he  arrived 
in  Frankfort,  where  we  presumed  he  joined  the  Secret 
Service,  for  from  that  city  he  proceeded  to  Amster¬ 
dam  and  Rotterdam,  where  he  apparently  received  his 
instruction  in  spying.  In  the  latter  place  the  ingenious 
Huns  who  arranged  matters  primed  Roggen  with  a 
few  particulars  which  would  enable  him  to  pass  muster 
as  a  South  American  farmer  interested  in  the  buying 
of  agricultural  necessities.  But,  as  usual,  the  Hun 
does  not  appear  to  have  told  his  dupe  that  there  was 
a  good  deal  of  risk  connected  with  the  visit,  in  that 
his  information  would  have  to  come  to  an  address 
which  might  be  suspected.  Roggen’s  case  is  remark¬ 
able  for  one  fact.  He  was  at  large  only  eleven  days, 
which,  next  to  Kiipferle’s  five,  was  the  shortest  spell 
of  liberty  any  captured  German  agent  enjoyed  during 
the  war.  But  the  history  of  his  doings  in  those  eleven 
days  are  interesting  enough,  in  that  they  reveal  the 
astonishingly  poor  chance  which  spies  of  the  type  of 
Roggen  possessed  of  getting  out  of  England  alive. 

The  little  Uruguayan  arrived  at  Tilbury  from 
Holland  on  May  30th,  and,  passing  the  port  examination 
without  evoking  suspicion,  came  up  to  London.  There 
he  stayed  for  five  days,  getting  his  bearings  and  en¬ 
deavouring  to  create  an  atmosphere  of  genuineness 
which  might  be  useful  in  the  future  by  visiting  several 
prominent  dealers  in  expensive  farm  stock.  From 
these  people  he  asked  quotations  for  hackney  stallions 
and  pedigree  cows,  telling  them  that  he  would  pay  up 
to  £500  for  suitable  horses.  Needless  to  say,  he 


127 


An  Unconvincing  Story 

bought  nothing,  although  later,  when  placed  on  his 
trial,  he  brought  some  of  these  dealers  to  give  evidence 
that  he  had  had  bona  fide  transactions  with  them. 

On  June  4th  Roggen  took  train  at  King’s  Cross.  His 
real  mission,  that  of  acquiring  naval  information,  was 
about  to  begin.  But  from  the  very  commencement 
things  went  wrong.  One  of  the  passengers  in  his 
carriage,  taking  a  strong  dislike  to  the  self-styled 
Uruguayan  agriculturist,  owing  to  the  many  questions 
he  persisted  in  asking,  rudely  requested  to  know  who 
he  was  and  what  he  wanted  in  England.  Roggen  spun 
his  story  with  a  wealth  of  detail,  only  to  be  told  that 
unless  he  kept  away  from  the  coast  he  would  find  him¬ 
self  under  arrest  before  many  days  had  passed.  As 
it  turned  out  the  words  were  uncannily  true,  and  they 
certainly  appear  to  have  frightened  the  spy,  for  when 
the  train  pulled  up  at  Lincoln  he  hurriedly  left  the 
compartment  where  his  uncomfortable  companion 
was  sitting  and  spent  the  night  at  an  hotel  in  the  cathe¬ 
dral  city,  journeying  on  to  Edinburgh  the  following 
day.  There  is  no  question  that  Roggen,  with  his 
strongly-accentuated  foreign  appearance,  was  a  bad 
choice  as  a  spy.  No  sooner  had  he  arrived  in  Edin¬ 
burgh  and  reported  his  presence  to  the  nearest  Aliens 
Officer  than  he  was  literally  pounced  upon  and  asked 
to  produce  evidence  that  he  had  come  to  Scotland  on 
genuine  business.  Roggen  explained  that,  even  in 
such  a  far-distant  country  as  Uruguay  the  beauties  of 
the  Lake  districts  were  well  known,  and  that  for  reasons 
of  health  he  had  come  to  Edinburgh,  en  route  to  the 
Lakes.  By  no  means  convinced,  the  canny  Scottish 
police  allowed  him  to  take  his  departure,  but  kept  him 
under  strict  observation.  Foreigners  were  not  par¬ 
ticularly  popular  in  Scotland  just  then.  Memories  of 


128 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Lody  and  Mrs.  Wertheim  were  still  keen,  and  there  was 
nothing  about  the  little  Uruguayan  farmer  to  suggest 
that  the  beauties  of  nature  exercised  any  untoward 
influence  over  his  everyday  movements.  And,  al¬ 
though  the  unbelieving  Scots  had  never  before  seen  a 
farmer  from  Uruguay,  they  refused  to  be  convinced 
that  a  fashionably-dressed  young  man  clad  as  Roggen 
was  could  have  much  to  do  with  the  soil. 

However,  Roggen  does  not  seem  to  have  suspected 
that  his  movements  were  the  object  of  close  attention 
on  the  part  of  the  police.  On  June  9th  he  left  Edinburgh 
and  went  to  Tarbet,  Loch  Lomond,  to  indulge  in  a 
little  fishing,  as  he  was  careful  to  tell  everybody  in  the 
hotel.  Any  lingering  doubt  which  the  Scottish  police 
may  have  possessed  as  to  the  real  motive  of  Roggen’s 
visit  was  dispelled  by  this,  for  it  was  at  Tarbet  at  that 
particular  time  that  vital  experiments  with  a  new 
torpedo  were  then  being  carried  out.  Roggen  must 
have  suffered  from  a  profound  lack  of  knowledge  of 
the  Scottish  character  to  have  imagined  that  he  would 
be  permitted  to  enter  such  a  district  unchallenged, 
especially  as  the  area  was  one  prohibited  to  all  aliens 
under  the  Defence  of  the  Realm  Act. 

But  apart  from  anything  the  Scottish  police  might 
have  done,  Roggen’s  days  were  being  numbered  in 
London.  His  postcards  from  Edinburgh  had  been 
intercepted  and  the  address  confirmed  as  that  of  one 
of  the  German  Secret  Service.  We  knew  from  experi¬ 
ence  that  the  enemy  instructed  their  spies  to  lay  low 
for  a  week  or  ten  days,  and  then  send  two  postcards, 
written  in  ordinary  English,  giving  some  personal 
message  which  would  not  arouse  suspicion.  These 
cards  were  to  be  sent  to  different  addresses,  to  provide 
against  the  possibility  of  one  going  astray.  Roggen 


Augusto  Alfredo  Roggen.  Ernst  Waldemar  Melin. 


An  Abortive  Errand 


129 


was  found  at  an  hotel  in  Tarbet,  and  gave  a  good  simu¬ 
lation  of  indignation  when  arrested.  Being  informed 
by  the  police  that  he  was  to  be  sent  to  London  as  a 
suspected  spy  he  grew  extremely  indignant,  and 
threatened  to  evoke  all  manner  of  international  com¬ 
plications.  But  to  the  dour  Scottish  police  such  talk 
possessed  no  interest  at  all. 

“  You  can  tell  that  to  the  people  in  London,”  they 
replied.  “  We  expect  they  know  all  about  you.” 

Under  a  strong  escort  the  spy  was  brought  down  to 
London,  where,  at  Scotland  Yard,  he  went  through  a 
strict  interrogation  as  to  his  presence  in  England. 
Roggen  was  nothing  if  not  voluble,  and  would  admit 
everything  except  the  fact  that  he  was  a  German 
agent.  But  he  could  not  explain  to  our  satisfaction 
the  writing  of  the  two  postcards  to  the  master  spy  in 
Holland,  nor  the  finding  of  a  bottle  of  secret  ink  in  his 
baggage.  It  is  quite  possible,  of  course,  that  he  never 
intended  to  use  this  ink.  In  all  likelihood  he  had 
intended  making  a  flying  trip  and  getting  back  to 
Holland  with  whatever  information  he  had  been  able 
to  pick  up,  much  the  same  as  Buschman.  He  was 
merely  one  more  link  in  the  chain  of  German  spies  of 
neutral  origin  whom  the  enemy  were  then  endeavour¬ 
ing  to  get  into  this  country,  and  the  authorities  con¬ 
cerned  had  no  scruples  in  deciding  that  Roggen 
should  stand  his  trial  by  court-martial  on  a  charge  of 
espionage. 

The  trial  took  place  on  August  20th,  and  although 
Roggen  tried  to  prove  that  he  had  come  to  England 
with  the  genuine  purpose  of  buying  goods  and  stock  for 
South  America,  the  court  rejected  the  plea  and  found 
him  guilty,  the  sentence,  duly  confirmed,  being  that 
of  death  by  shooting.  The  execution  took  place  at  the 

9 


130  German  Spies  at  Bay 

Tower  on  September  17th,  the  condemned  man  meet¬ 
ing  his  fate  quite  boldly.  Indeed,  he  marched  out  to 
the  chair  with  defiant  air,  refused  to  have  his  eyes 
bandaged,  and  went  to  his  death  with  a  courage  and 
self-possession  which  could  not  but  compel  the  admira¬ 
tion  of  those  who  composed  the  firing-party. 

If  any  evidence  were  necessary  as  to  the  straits 
to  which  the  Germans  were  reduced  in  order  to  induce 
men  to  spy  for  them,  the  employment  of  men  such  as 
Roggen  furnished  indisputable  proof  that  the  effica¬ 
cious  manner  in  which  we  dealt  with  the  people  who 
had  already  visited  this  country  had  become  well 
known  in  the  cities  where  spies  were  recruited.  Roggen 
was  a  man  totally  incapable  of  finding  his  way  about 
England  without  arousing  suspicion.  It  is  highly 
probable  that  the  Germans  were  quite  aware  of  that 
fact,  but  wisely  enough — from  their  point  of  view — 
omitted  to  tell  him  so.  Like  so  many  of  the  enemy’s 
spies,  Roggen  never  obtained  any  information  of  value  ; 
it  did  not  appear  to  have  entered  his  mind  that  our 
valuable  naval  and  military  secrets  were  not  to  be 
picked  up  by  the  first  foreigner  who  came  along. 

Not  long  after  Roggen  had  been  executed  our  1 
authorities  had  rather  an  extraordinary  request  for¬ 
warded  to  them  through  the  Dutch  Government. 

It  was  from  the  widow  of  the  deceased  spy,  and  asked 
that  the  dead  body  of  her  husband  might  be  sent  to 
her  in  Holland.  After  carefully  considering  the  matter 
our  Foreign  Office  stated  that  they  saw  no  reason  why 
the  request  should  be  acceded  to.  Roggen’s  body, 
like  those  of  the  other  spies  who  had  paid  the  supreme  1 
penalty,  had  been  buried  within  the  precincts  of  the 
Tower  of  London,  and  we  did  not  feel  inclined  to 
establish  a  precedent  which  would  in  all  probability 


The  Last  of  the  Seven 


131 


lead  to  similar  requests  being  made  from  the  relatives 
of  all  the  other  executed  men. 

But  that  was  not  the  last  we  were  to  hear  of  the  name 
of  Roggen.  Just  about  twelve  months  after  the  spy  had 
been  shot  a  Boarding  Officer  detained  a  man  proceeding 
from  Holland  to  South  America  who  bore  the  name 
of  Dr.  Emilio  Roggen.  He  turned  out  to  be  the 
brother  of  the  spy,  and  was  greatly  distressed  at  the 
fate  which  had  overtaken  him.  Dr.  Roggen,  who 
seemed  a  highly  respectable  individual,  told  us  that 
he  had  been  in  Germany  on  the  outbreak  of  war,  and 
had  been  forcibly  detained  by  the  Imperial  Government 
and  compelled  to  serve  as  a  medical  officer  with  troops 
in  the  field.  It  had  taken  him  just  on  two  years 
to  effect  his  release,  and  he  was  then  on  his  way  home 
to  Uruguay.  So  far  as  we  were  concerned  we  had  no 
quarrel  with  the  worthy  doctor,  and  after  apologizing 
to  him  for  the  trouble  we  had  caused  him,  sent  him 
on  his  journey  without  further  hindrance. 

****** 

During  the  war  we  encountered  many  saddening 
instances  of  the  corrupting  effects  of  German  gold. 
One  of  the  worst  was  that  of  the  case  of  a  man  named 
Ernst  Waldemar  Melin,  who  was  the  seventh  of  the 
spies  to  be  arrested  in  the  fortnight  previously 
mentioned. 

Melin  was  a  Swede,  52  years  of  age,  well  educated 
and  of  good  family,  one  of  those  wanderers  who 
drift  about  the  world,  taking  up  any  occupation 
offering  lucrative  possibilities.  In  his  earlier  years 
he  had  followed  a  business  career,  and,  indeed,  at 
one  time  he  was  quite  flourishing  as  the  manager 
of  a  steamship  company  at  Gothenburg,  in  Sweden. 

9* 


132  German  Spies  at  Bay 

But  then  his  health  failed  him,  and,  having  a  little 
money  in  his  possession,  he  went  travelling  through 
Europe.  At  different  times  he  was  employed  in 
London,  Paris  and  Copenhagen,  where  he  tried  all 
kinds  of  occupations  with  but  indifferent  success. 
From  Denmark  he  went  to  Hamburg,  where  he  had 
many  friends.  But  the  war  had  swept  them  into 
the  hungry  jaws  of  the  German  Army,  and  Melin 
found  himself  stranded.  His  own  relatives  would 
send  him  nothing,  so  in  the  hope  of  finding  any  kind 
of  employment  he  made  his  way  to  Antwerp,  where, 
he  was  told,  there  was  plenty  of  remunerative  work 
for  men  willing  to  undertake  risks. 

Antwerp  was  then  the  headquarters  of  the  German 
intelligence  system,  and  after  a  good  deal  of  inquiry 
Melin  found  himself  in  touch  with  the  Secret  Service 
of  that  country.  Ascertaining  that  he  spoke  good 
English,  they  asked  if  he  was  willing  to  “  manoeuvre  ” 
in  that  country  to  obtain  certain  naval  information, 
for  which  they  were  prepared  to  pay  well. 

According  to  his  statement  made  to  the  English 
authorities  he  at  first  resisted  the  temptation,  but 
being  utterly  penniless  he  ultimately  succumbed,  and 
was  sent  to  undergo  courses  in  intelligence  work  at 
the  spy  schools  in  Wesel  and  Antwerp.  From  there 
he  was  drafted,  as  usual,  to  Rotterdam,  where  he  re¬ 
ceived  his  passport,  the  addresses  to  which  he  was 
to  communicate  and  final  instructions  for  preserving 
his  safety. 

Within  a  few  days  of  his  arrival  here  our  counter¬ 
espionage  authorities  were  notified  that  Melin  was 
thought  to  be  a  German  spy.  However,  there  was  no 
confirmation  at  the  time,  so  we  confined  the  matter 
to  keeping  him  under  observation  in  the  hope  that 


133 


The  Philosopher 

before  long  he  would  commit  himself  to  something 
in  writing.  We  were  well  aware  of  the  fact  that 
he  was  temporarily  living  in  a  Hampstead  boarding 
house,  and  that  he  was  supposed  to  be  looking  out 
for  a  berth  in  some  shipping  house.  He  made  himself 
exceedingly  agreeable  to  the  people  living  with  him, 
and  was  readily  enough  accepted  for  what  he  professed 
to  be,  a  Dutchman  whose  business  had  been  ruined 
by  the  German  submarine  campaign. 

Unfortunately  for  himself,  Melin  now  began  to  write 
to  his  employers.  He  sent  scraps  of  information  all 
utterly  valueless,  written  on  the  margins  of  news¬ 
papers,  the  commonest  of  all  spy  tricks.  These,  in 
addition  to  letters  from  someone  in  Holland  who  was 
known  to  be  a  German  agent,  asking  for  certain  naval 
intelligence,  rendered  Melin’s  guilt  practically  certain, 
and  it  was  decided  to  take  him  into  custody. 

The  spy  took  his  arrest  quite  phlegmatically — 
probably  he  had  been  expecting  it,  for  he  possessed 
a  philosophic  temperament,  doubtless  well  seasoned 
by  many  years  of  adversity,  and  made  no  show  of 
indignation  when  told  he  was  accused  of  communi¬ 
cating  with  the  enemy.  His  rooms  were  searched  and 
revealed  the  stock  in  trade  which  we  had  come  to  know 
so  well,  lemon  juice,  a  special  nib  for  the  writing,  and 
a  number  of  codes  and  foreign  dictionaries,  in  addition 
to  a  Baedeker  guide,  none  of  which,  apparently,  had 
been  used.  Melin  does  not  appear  to  have  attempted 
to  communicate  with  his  employers  by  telegram  for 
at  that  time  the  Germans  were  probably  fully  aware 
£hat  we  purposely  delayed  all  cables  in  order  that  the 
addressee’s  bona  fides  might  be  verified.  Even  had 
he  done  so  his  information  would  have  been  of  little 
use  by  the  time  it  reached  the  enemy. 


184 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Under  interrogation  the  spy  volunteered  the  fullest 
particulars  of  himself.  But  he  protested  to  the 
authorities  that  he  had  no  real  intention  of  supplying 
the  Germans  with  any  information  of  value :  all 
he  was  anxious  to  do  was  to  give  something  which 
would  ensure  a  regular  supply  of  money.  That  was 
true  enough  to  the  extent  that  he  never  sent  anything 
which  was  worth  sending,  probably  for  the  reason 
that  he  was  unable  to  obtain  it,  but  it  was  no  answer 
to  the  charge  of  espionage.  So,  after  due  consideration, 
it  was  decided  to  send  him  for  trial  by  court-martial. 
This  duly  took  place  on  August  20th-2ist.  It  was  urged 
by  counsel  provided  for  his  defence  that  he  had  told 
the  enemy  nothing  which  could  not  have  been  read 
in  a  newspaper,  but  that  was  not  sufficient  defence 
to  acquit  a  man  who  had  confessed  that  he  was  a 
German  spy.  So  Melin  was  sentenced  to  death. 

He  took  the  three  weeks  which  intervened  before 
his  execution  with  the  greatest  of  resignation,  and 
proved  a  model  prisoner.  When  the  time  came  for 
him  to  face  the  firing  party  he  shook  hands  with  the 
guard,  thanked  them  for  the  many  kindnesses  they  had 
shown  him  and  died  like  the  gentleman  he  had  un¬ 
doubtedly  once  been. 


CHAPTER  IX 


What  the  Germans  sought — Crude  secret  inks — The  Tragedy  of 
the  Tinned  Fish — Ludovico  Hurwitz-y-Zender — German 
methods  of  espionage — Lincoln  at  the  Admiralty — Irving 
Guy  Ries,  film  operator  and  spy — Courtenay  de  Rysbach, 
naturalized  British  subject,  music-hall  artist  and  spy — Albert 
Meyer,  the  spy  of  Soho. 

Although  there  would  appear  to  be  little  likelihood 
of  our  ever  learning  exactly  what  information  the 
German  Secret  Service  obtained  from  spies  sent 
to  Great  Britain,  we  have  this  assurance  :  if  anything 
of  value  ever  did  get  through  the  Great  General  Staff 
in  Berlin  made  very  bad  use  of  it. 

The  probabilities  are  that  none  of  the  spies  who  came 
here  ever  picked  up  much  that  could  not  have  been 
read  in  our  newspapers,  most  of  which  went  to  Holland 
in  the  ordinary  course  of  events,  and  so  found  their 
way  into  German  hands.  But,  apart  from  that, 
British  people  were  so  on  the  alert  for  spies  in  the  early 
days  of  the  war  that  a  foreigner  had  only  to  act  in 
the  least  suspiciously  to  have  his  doings  reported  at 
the  nearest  police  station. 

Right  up  to  the  end  of  1915  the  enemy  maintained 
the  keenest  anxiety  concerning  naval  matters.  Could 
he  have  gained  any  assurance  that  there  was  any 
possibility  of  obtaining  command  of  the  seas,  he 
would  undoubtedly  have  taken  the  risk  of  a  decisive 
engagement.  His  armies  were  successful  in  the  field 
everywhere.  Russia  had  been  reduced  to  a  condition 
of  passive  defence,  while  the  French  and  British  armies 
on  the  western  front  were  not  in  any  state  to  ensure 

135 


136 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

their  being  able  to  take  the  offensive  on  a  large  scale 
owing  to  want  of  the  all-necessary  munitions.  But 
the  British  Navy  was  the  stumbling  block :  while 
we  held  the  seas  there  could  be  no  victory  for  Germany. 
For  that  reason  he  was  willing  to  pay  any  price  to 
gain  intelligence  dealing  with  our  senior  service. 
Practically  all  the  spies  who  came  here  were  given 
instructions  to  concentrate  on  naval  matters. 

The  difficulty  surrounding  such  espionage  will  be 
apparent  to  a  child.  The  system  of  registration  laid 
down  by  the  Defence  of  the  Realm  Act  kept  the  move¬ 
ments  of  foreigners  from  one  town  to  another  under  the 
perpetual  notice  of  the  uniformed  police,  for  at  every 
station  there  was  appointed  an  Aliens  Officer  whose 
sole  duty  consisted  in  checking  the  entry  and  departure 
of  people  who  were  not  of  British  birth  or  naturalization. 

In  addition  to  this  very  effective  safeguard,  there 
existed  the  Postal  and  Cable  Censorships,  which  by 
the  middle  of  1915  had  been  placed  on  a  well-organized 
basis  which  rendered  the  task  of  communication  with 
foreign  sources,  other  than  by  legitimate  means,  one 
of  extreme  difficulty  and  danger.  The  chaos  which 
had  existed  in  the  first  few  months  of  the  war  had 
been  straightened  out.  And,  greatest  blessing  of 
all,  the  counter-espionage  department  was  now  in 
full  working  order.  We  had  laboriously  compiled, 
through  the  medium  of  specially-trained  people,  a 
list  of  addresses  abroad,  the  owners  of  which  were 
known,  or  suspected,  to  either  belong  to  the  German 
Secret  Service,  or  to  have  been  suborned  by  the  enemy 
to  allow  themselves  to  be  used  as  a  ftoste  restante 
for  clandestine  correspondence.  These  addresses  were 
all  thoroughly  investigated,  and,  if  found  to  be  sus¬ 
picious,  particulars  were  forwarded  to  England,  where 


An  Over-rated  Secret  Service  137 


they  were  placed  on  a  black  list,  which  ensured  every 
such  letter  being  opened  and  read. 

It  would  take  too  much  space  to  tell  of  the  impudent 
manner  in  which  the  Germans  violated  the  neutrality 
of  every  country  which  maintained  intercourse  •  with 
Great  Britain.  Holland,  of  course,  suffered  worst  of 
all,  Rotterdam  being  a  regular  nest  of  German  spies. 
When  the  Dutch  Government  finally  made  a  clean 
sweep  of  these  Secret  Service  agents  the  enemy  was 
in  a  bit  of  a  quandary,  so  he  was  driven  further  afield. 
The  German  Ministers  in  South  America  were  in¬ 
structed  to  try  and  obtain  spies,  while  in  Norway, 
Sweden  and  Denmark  arrangements  were  made  to 
establish  addresses  where  letters  could  be  forwarded 
Spain  was  also  extensively  used,  but  mainly  for 
operations  against  France. 

In  the  first  few  months  of  the  war  it  had  been  a 
comparatively  simple  matter  for  any  neutral  to  enter 
this  country.  But  when  we  had  got  the  counter¬ 
espionage  department  firmly  established,  one  of  the 
first  things  insisted  upon  by  the  officer  in  charge  was 
that  he  should  have  a  representative  of  his  own  at 
every  port,  and  thus  have  a  direct  check  on  people 
passing  to  and  fro.  All  our  troubles  with  spies  had 
emanated  from  this  source  :  the  difficulties  of  separat¬ 
ing  enemy  agents  from  neutrals  engaged  in  bona  fide 
matters  were  unending. 

Despite  the  much-vaunted  brilliance  and  cunning 
of  the  German  Secret  Service  at  the  time  the  war 
started,  it  was  soon  evident  to  the  British  authorities 
that  our  enemies  were  hopelessly  behindhand  in  their 
methods  for  the  masking  of  their  agents’  reports, 
as  was  shown  at  the  time  of  the  arrest  of  Lody,  who 
wrote  his  reports  quite  openly  in  ordinary  longhand 


138 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

and  made  no  attempt  to  write  in  invisible  ink  of  any 
kind.  He  was  not  even  equipped  with  a  lemon  juice 
outfit  for  secret  writing,  a  method  which  had  been 
employed  in  England  more  than  150  years  previously, 
and  numerous  examples  of  its  use  had  come  under 
notice  even  at  that  time.  It  thus  came  about  that  the 
Germans  were  indebted  to  the  English  Service  for  the 
improvement  which  was  noticeable  in  their  methods 
at  this  time. 

As  the  war  progressed,  the  use  of  lemon  juice,  milk, 
urine,  etc.,  for  the  secret  writing  of  information,  was 
discarded,  and  numerous  chemical  inks  were  introduced 
for  the  purpose,  each  of  these  requiring  a  particular 
re-agent.  These  inks  soon  became  out-of-date,  the 
secret  of  development  being  quickly  discovered  by 
English  chemists  whose  special  business  it  was  to 
deal  with  such  matters.  After  this,  German  agents 
here  wrote  invisible  messages  from  ink  made  of  very 
subtle  chemicals,  and  vainly  believed  by  German 
scientists  to  be  beyond  the  capacity  of  any  English 
chemist  to  discover.  Of  course,  nothing  was  done  to 
shatter  this  belief,  but  had  the  Germans  come  to 
this  country  and  proceeded  to  a  certain  laboratory  in 
London,  they  would  have  been  astounded  to  find 
messages,  written  in  their  wonderful  ink,  being 
developed  by  English  chemists  with  the  same  ease 
and  facility  as  they  had  done  with  messages  written 
in  such  crude  liquids  as  lemon  juice  or  milk.  After 
the  break-up  of  their  second  attempt  to  establish  a 
spy  organization  here  the  world  was  scoured  for  spies, 
but  they  were  all  of  the  "  casual  ”  type.  There  was 
never  another  effort  to  keep  themselves  in  touch  with 
our  doings  by  means  of  a  regular  system. 

****** 


The  Traveller  in  Sardines 


139 


Very  few  people  have  ever  heard  of  the  spy  drama 
which  afterwards  came  to  be  known  as  the  “  Tragedy 
of  the  Tinned  Fish.”  It  was  an  amusing  enough 
episode  in  its  way,  although  the  consequences  for  the 
central  figure  in  the  play  proved  disastrous. 

In  June,  1915,  the  particular  experts  at  the  Cable 
Censorship  who  concerned  themselves  with  trade 
telegrams  were  rather  puzzled  to  have  brought  to 
their  notice  messages  intended  for  dispatch  to  an 
address  in  Christiania,  ordering  large  quantities  of 
sardines  in  oil.  In  ordinary  circumstances  there  would 
be  nothing  about  such  a  message  to  provoke  suspicion. 
But  it  was  the  wrong  season  for  the  supply  of  the 
succulent  sardine  ;  no  self-respecting  Norwegian  canner 
would  think  of  tinning  fish  when  none  were  being 
caught.  We  communicated  with  our  representatives 
in  the  Norwegian  capital,  and  after  some  little  inquiry 
ascertained  that  the  address  of  the  merchant  who  was 
to  fulfil  the  order  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  that 
of  an  individual  with  no  ostensible  business  who  was 
known  to  be  in  daily  conversation  with  the  German 
Consul.  His  real  occupation  appeared  to  be  that  of 
post  box  for  the  enemy  Secret  Service.  With  that 
valuable  fact  in  our  possession  we  began  to  scrutinize 
the  industrious  sardine  traveller’s  message  for  a  code, 
and  before  long  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  his 
orders  were  merely  a  code  in  which  he  was  forwarding 
naval  intelligence.  In  the  meantime  it  had  been 
learnt  that  the  name  of  the  sender  was  Ludovico 
Hurwitz-y-Zender. 

He  was  arrested  at  Newcastle  on  July  2nd,  1915, 
where  he  was  cutting  a  great  dash  amongst  the  un¬ 
suspecting  locals.  He  expressed  a  good  deal  of 
astonishment  when  informed  that  there  were  certain 


140 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

experts  in  tinned  fish  who  would  be  glad  to  see  him 
in  London,  and  made  the  long  journey  down  in  the 
train  with  rather  a  bad  grace. 

There  was  little  doubt,  as  was  revealed  at  the 
interrogation,  that  at  one  part  of  his  career  Zender 
had  been  a  genuine  commercial  traveller.  He  was 
born  at  Lima  in  Peru  in  1878,  his  father  being  a  native- 
born  Peruvian  of  Scandinavian  parents.  His  mother 
was  a  Peruvian  born  and  bred,  and  gave  her  son  a 
first-class  education,  which  included  a  more  than 
passable  command  of  Latin,  French  and  English. 
He  spoke  and  wrote  our  language  very  well  indeed, 
and  was  able  to  express  himself  with  clearness.  Accord¬ 
ing  to  his  own  statement  he  had  represented  several 
European  firms  in  Peru,  travelling  all  over  the  country 
selling  their  goods.  In  August,  1914,  he  decided  to 
come  to  Europe,  taking  in  the  United  States  on  his 
way,  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  agencies  in  paper, 
handkerchiefs  and  foodstuffs.  During  his  journey  he 
visited  New  York,  Bergen,  Christiania  and  Copenhagen. 
It  was  probably  in  Christiania  that  he  picked  up  with 
the  German  Secret  Service  agents,  who  were  at  that 
time  offering  fancy  inducements  to  people  willing 
to  go  to  England  for  them. 

There  was  no  difficulty  about  his  passport,  which 
was  a  genuine  one,  so  all  that  remained  was  to  provide 
him  with  samples  of  tinned  fish,  and  a  price  list  for 
fish  in  oil,  which  was  to  be  his  code  for  sending  messages. 
Like  the  Dutch  cigar  travellers,  Zender  forgot  one 
thing  :  that  was  the  danger  which  lay  in  communicat¬ 
ing  with  an  address  which  we  were  not  certain  was 
above  all  suspicion. 

However,  Zender  appears  to  have  landed  all  right, 
and  in  turn  visited  Newcastle,  Glasgow  and  Edinburgh, 


Ludovico  Hui  wit z-y-Zender 


[To  face  p.  140, 


Considerate  Treatment 


141 


where  he  obtained  what  information  he  could  and  tried 
to  send  it  off  in  the  form  of  a  sardine  order.  That 
proved  his  undoing.  He  passionately  protested  that 
he  was  in  Europe  for  the  purpose  of  buying  sardines 
for  shipment  to  Peru,  that  he  also  hoped  to  purchase 
large  quantities  of  handkerchiefs  in  Glasgow  and  steel 
goods  in  Sheffield,  but  his  story,  viewed  in  the  light 
of  the  out-of-season  sardines  ordered  from  Norway, 
carried  as  much  weight  as  would  a  statement  that  he 
was  in  Newcastle  with  the  intention  of  selling  coals. 
And  the  sardine  experts  laughed  to  scorn  the  idea  of 
any  Norwegian  canner  accepting  an  order  in  the  middle 
of  summer.  So  the  authorities  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  Zender  should  be  committed  to  the  Wandsworth 
Detention  Barracks  to  await  trial  by  court-martial. 

In  the  ordinary  course  of  events  the  court-martial 
would  have  been  held  within  at  least  two  months. 
All  the  necessary  evidence  had  been  collected  for  the 
prosecution  when  Zender  suddenly  notified  the  officials 
that  he  was  desirous  of  obtaining  testimony  from 
South  America  which  would  prove  that  he  had  come 
to  this  country  for  bona  fide  commercial  purposes 
and  had  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  German 
espionage.  Our  military  authorities  were  only  too 
pleased  to  give  him  an  opportunity  of  clearing  himself, 
and  made  no  objection  to  the  adjournment  of  the  case. 

This  postponement  extended  over  six  months,  and 
such  merciful  treatment  of  a  supposed  spy,  against 
whom  the  evidence  of  guilt  was  particularly  strong, 
has  never  been  known  in  this  or  any  other  country 
in  time  of  war.  It  certainly  presented  a  vivid  contrast 
to  the  hurried  and  illegal  nature  of  the  trial  of  Nurse 
Cavell  in  Brussels  the  same  year. 

Zender  languished  in  prison  for  eight  months  before 


142  German  Spies  at  Bay 

the  evidence  he  was  anxious  to  obtain  arrived  from 
Peru.  His  trial  was  then  fixed  for  March  20th,  1916. 
The  nature  of  the  evidence  which  he  was  able  to  bring 
forward  assisted  him  very  little,  however,  and  after 
a  long  hearing  he  was  found  guilty  and  condemned 
to  death.  He  was  executed  in  the  Tower  on  April 
nth,  1916,  nine  months  after  the  date  of  his  arrest, 
and  met  his  fate  with  a  fair  amount  of  calm,  for  there 
is  no  doubt  that  he  was  guilty  of  the  charge  brought 
against  him,  and  knew  from  the  beginning  that  there 
was  very  little  hope  of  his  being  released. 

Zender  was  the  last  spy  to  be  shot  in  this  country 
during  the  war.  After  his  time,  the  death  sentences 
of  other  agents  captured  and  tried  were,  for  various 
reasons,  commuted  to  penal  servitude  for  life.  The 
Peruvian,  who  was  an  army  reserve  officer  in  his  native 
land,  was  quite  a  favourable  specimen  of  the  spy,  and 
it  was  always  a  matter  of  wonder  with  his  captors 
how  he  ever  lent  himself  to  the  nefarious  intentions 
of  the  German  Secret  Service.  He  certainly  had  no 
conception  of  the  chances  against  his  ever  getting 
out  of  England  alive. 

****** 

Our  counter-espionage  authorities  certainly  enjoyed 
a  wonderfully  busy  time  in  1915.  The  Germans  were 
straining  every  nerve  to  glean  something  of  the  where¬ 
abouts  of  our  Grand  Fleet,  and  all  their  spies  who  came 
here  during  the  summer  months  were  under  orders  to 
proceed  to  Edinburgh,  Glasgow  and  Newcastle  to  try 
and  ascertain  exactly  what  naval  bases  we  were 
using  and  what  was  our  state  of  preparedness  in  the 
event  of  a  sudden  onslaught.  It  says  much  for  the 


The  “  Hidden  Hand  ” 


143 


persuasiveness  of  their  Secret  Service  agents  that  they 
were  ever  able  to  induce  people  to  come  to  England 
and  spy  for  them.  The  canny  Hun  took  exceedingly 
good  care  that  he  did  not  come — the  risks  were  too 
well  known  to  him — but  he  appears  to  have  found 
a  fairly  good  supply  of  neutral  subjects,  most  of  them 
German  in  origin,  who  probably  agreed  to  take  up 
the  work  when  their  patriotic  instincts  were  appealed 
to.  It  is  absolutely  certain  that  all  the  neutrals  who 
came  here  in  the  guise  of  German  agents  possessed 
no  true  idea  of  the  dangers  attaching  to  such  work. 
It  would  seem  that  the  Hunnish  delusion  that  we 
were  too  stupid  for  words  had  been  well  drilled  into 
them,  for  all  the  methods  they  employed  were  familiar 
to  us  and  their  capture  in  time  was  a  certainty. 

I  greatly  regret  that  I  am  unable  to  clothe  the  doings 
of  the  German  spies  who  came  to  this  country  with  a 
cloak  of  mystery  and  intrigue,  with  visions  of  wealthy 
naturalized  Germans,  high  in  the  confidence  of  the 
Government,  giving  them  secret  instructions  and  placing 
enormous  sums  of  money  at  their  disposal.  I  know 
of  no  camouflaged  Huns  who  had  access  to  all  our 
vital  documents  of  State,  which  were  to  be  stolen  at 
midnight  in  houses  where  inter-allied  statesmen  met 
and  decided  the  fate  of  nations.  The  plain  fact  of 
the  matter  is  that  we  did  not  really  suffer  from  the 
“  Hidden  Hand  ”  which  provided  such  fruitful 
conversation  in  the  early  days  of  the  war.  Spying 
and  counter-spying,  like  all  other  crimes,  is  very  much 
a  matter  of  organization,  which  to  be  effective  must 
be  conducted  on  regular  lines.  The  Germans  had 
certain  clearly  defined  methods.  They  altered  slightly 
from  time  to  time,  it  is  true,  but  in  the  broad  essentials 
they  remained  much  the  same  right  through  the  war. 


144 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

In  addition  to  those  which  the  foregoing  chapters  hav 
indicated,  there  was  the  valuable  information  to  be 
obtained  from  prisoners  captured  on  the  battle-field, 
or  in  a  raid  on  the  trenches  specially  arranged  for  the 
purpose.  For  purely  military  purposes  this  method 
was  the  most  valuable  of  all. 

Naval  information  was  hedged  in  with  many  more 
difficulties,  for,  except  in  the  Battle  of  Jutland,  it  was 
rarely  indeed  that  the  Germans  were  able  to  obtain 
any  prisoners  who,  under  compulsion  or  otherwise, 
could  tell  them  anything  likely  to  be  of  value. 
Submarine  commanders  picked  up  a  little  from  the 
crews  of  torpedoed  ships,  although  at  the  best  of 
times  it  was  scrappy  and  none  too  reliable.  So  spies 
had  to  be  utilized,  and  to  give  them  any  possibility 
at  all  of  manoeuvring  in  safety  it  was  necessary 
that  they  should  be  neutrals. 

I  have  read  many  thrilling  stories  of  German  secret 
service  agents  who  mysteriously  kidnapped  naval 
officers  in  possession  of  plans  of  new  ships  or  torpedoes 
which  were  to  blow  the  German  Navy  to  Kingdom 
Come.  If  the  Germans  read  such  books,  as  they  pro¬ 
bably  did,  they  must  have  smiled  broadly,  as  did  our 
counter-espionage  officials.  Before  the  war  the  Huns 
certainly  did  attempt  to  steal  our  plans.  There  was 
a  certain  German  naval  attache  who  once  called  on 
Lord,  then  Sir  John,  Fisher  when  he  was  First  Sea  Lord, 
with  a  view  to  coming  to  some  compromise  on  arma¬ 
ment.  Sir  John,  nothing  loath,  discussed  the  subject 
at  length,  and  produced  papers  dealing  with  our  naval 
shipbuilding  programme  for  the  future.  Then  he 
was  suddenly  called  out  of  the  room,  and  when  he 
returned  the  German,  buttoning  up  his  coat,  reluctantly 
said  he  must  go.  So  Sir  John  bade  him  a  cordial 


145 


Surprising  the  Enemy 

farewell,  and  found,  as  he  had  expected,  that  the  Hun 
had  taken  the  plans  with  him.  But  it  did  not  matter 
very  much,  for  they  had  been  provided  for  that  purpose. 

One  would  have  thought  the  German  Admiralty 
would  have  thereby  been  warned  of  such  transparent 
traps  in  the  future,  but  it  seems  not.  When  Admiral 
Bacon  was  in  charge  of  the  Dover  Patrol  during  the 
war  he  allowed  the  Huns  to  capture  a  complete  set  of 
plans  dealing  with  the  anti-submarine  defence  we  were 
going  to  adopt  in  future.  Heaven  only  knows  what 
importance  the  Germans  attached  to  them,  although 
they  were  bluff  from  start  to  finish.  But  they  had  the 
result  we  hoped  for — that  of  frightening  them  from 
using  the  Straits  of  Dover. 

No,  we  were  not  altogether  so  foolish  as  to  leave 
our  real  plans,  either  naval  or  military,  in  any  place 
where  enemies  or  their  agents  were  likely  to  get  hold 
of  them,  any  more  than  we  allowed  the  secret  of  the 
Tanks  to  get  into  German  hands.  It  says  much  for 
the  efficacy  of  our  system  of  preventing  leakage  of 
information  that,  although  experiments  and  manufac¬ 
ture  in  different  types  of  Tanks  were  going  on  all 
through  1915,  when  Germany  flooded  us  with  spies, 
the  first  intimation  the  enemy  obtained  of  their 
actual  being  was  on  September  15th,  1916,  when  one 
rolled  over  the  trenches  into  the  enemy-held  village 
of  Flers,  spitting  fire  and  death  upon  a  horde  of  fear- 
struck  Germans. 

But  the  most  amusing  instance  of  the  way  in  which 
we  were  guarded  occurred  with  I.  T.  T.  Lincoln,  then 
Liberal  M.P.  for  Darlington.  Before  he  was  suspect 
Lincoln  once  paid  a  visit  to  his  native  country  of 
Hungary,  and  returned  with  a  marvellous  invention 
which  was  to  revolutionize  all  naval  warfare.  The 


10 


146 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

owner  wanted  the  modest  sum  of  £1,000,000  for  it, 
so  Lincoln,  thinking  he  might  get  a  share  of  the  plunder, 
brought  the  gentleman  along  with  him  to  England. 
Mr.  McKenna  was  the  First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty  at 
the  time,  and  Lincoln  went  to  see  him.  After  they 
had  talked  the  matter  over  Mr.  McKenna  said  he  did 
not  think  we  would  buy  it ;  we  were  able  to  keep 
in  touch  with  most  things  of  naval  importance  which 
from  time  to  time  came  on  the  market. 

Just  as  they  were  finishing  their  conversation,  one 
of  the  Admiralty  officials  came  into  the  room  and 
whispered  something  into  Mr.  McKenna’s  ear.  There¬ 
upon  Mr.  McKenna  said  to  Lincoln,  “  Would  you 
mind  telling  your  friend  in  the  waiting-room  to  empty 
his  pockets  of  all  the  Admiralty  notepaper  and  en¬ 
velopes  he  has  stolen.”  It  was  the  £1,000,000  inventor, 
who  had  evidently  made  up  his  mind  to  get  something 
on  account.  But  the  highly  humorous  part  of  the 
story  lay  in  the  indignant  manner  in  which  Lincoln 
told  it.  “  The  dirty,  deceiving  English,”  he  would 
say ;  “  you  cannot  enter  one  of  their  public  offices 
without  being  watched.”  Certainly  people  of  the 
Lincoln  type  could  not. 

****** 

Quite  an  interesting  specimen  of  the  spy  in  search 
of  naval  information  managed  to  make  his  way  into 
England  in  the  summer  of  1915.  He  called  himself 
Irving  Guy  Ries,  and  in  more  peaceable  times  he 
followed  the  profession  of  a  film  operator.  What  on 
earth  induced  him  to  turn  German  spy  could  never 
be  ascertained,  except  that  reason  which  I  have  indi¬ 
cated  in  this  chapter.  Ries — it  was  not  his  real  name, 


The  Usual  Methods 


147 


as  a  matter  of  fact — was  a  German-American,  and 
appears  to  have  had  his  common  sense  perverted  by 
the  gang  of  Secret  Service  agents  who  were  recruiting 
spies  in  America.  He  consented  to  come  to  England 
on  the  plea  that  he  was  assisting  the  Fatherland. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  a  false  passport  was  provided  for 
him  and  a  passage  arranged  in  a  steamer  leaving  New 
York  on  June  26th.  No  suspicion  appears  to  have 
attached  itself  to  his  arrival  in  the  guise  of  a  hay, 
corn  and  grain  merchant,  and  he  passed  the  port 
examination  at  Liverpool  without  any  difficulty. 

Ries  had  plenty  of  money  in  his  possession  for 
immediate  needs,  and  on  coming  to  London  made  his 
way  to  a  famous  caravanserai  in  the  Strand,  well-known 
to  all  Americans.  There  he  stayed  for  a  few  days, 
keeping  his  ears  open  for  scraps  of  information  which 
came  from  the  conversation  of  naval  officers  without 
exciting  any  suspicion  that  he  was  otherwise  than 
what  he  pretended  to  be.  He  had  registered  with 
the  police  as  an  American  subject,  and  would  appear 
to  have  enjoyed  himself  seeing  the  sights  of  London 
in  war  time. 

Leaving  the  metropolis,  he  took  train  for  the  North, 
where  he  went  through  the  itinerary  which,  we  were 
beginning  to  know  so  well,  was  the  usual  thing  for 
spies  instructed  to  obtain  naval  intelligence.  In  turn 
he  visited  Newcastle,  Glasgow  and  Edinburgh,  and 
went  through  the  pretence  of  calling  on  a  few  produce 
merchants  in  each  city  as  a  blind  to  the  collection  of 
the  particulars  wanted.  But  he  did  no  real  business 
with  anyone,  a  fact  which  was  established  when  we  were 
getting  together  the  evidence  necessary  to  bring  him 
to  trial.  The  spy  spent  about  a  fortnight  in  the  North, 
and  returned  to  his  hotel  in  London  on  J ulry  28th.  With 

10* 


148  German  Spies  at  Bay 

the  idea  of  fabricating  some  proof  that  he  was  actually 
a  bona  fide  agent  for  the  firm  of  New  York  grain 
merchants,  he  kept  copies  of  every  business  letter  that 
he  wrote. 

But — there  was  always  a  flaw  in  the  German  process 
of  reasoning — his  rascally  employers,  judging  others 
as  they  did  themselves,  had  not  supplied  Irving  Ries 
with  enough  money  to  carry  him  through.  About 
the  end  of  July  a  letter  from  Holland  addressed  to 
him  was  detained  by  our  Postal  Censorship.  This 
communication  contained  the  usual  remittance  which 
the  Huns  made  to  their  agents  from  time  to  time,  and 
the  fact  that  an  American  grain  traveller  should 
receive  money  from  an  anonymous  source  in  Holland 
was  in  itself  curious  enough  to  warrant  a  close  watch 
being  kept  on  that  individual’s  movements. 

We  thought  we  could  not  do  better  than  ask  the 
American  authorities  here  to  investigate  the  genuine¬ 
ness  of  his  passport.  So  an  inquiry  went  through  to 
New  York,  the  result  panning  out  very  much  as  we 
expected  ;  it  was  a  forgery.  Ries,  of  course,  knew 
something  of  what  was  going  on,  for  he  had  been 
called  upon  to  surrender  the  passport. 

With  that  evidence  in  our  possession,  added  to  the 
facts  elicited  concerning  the  source  of  the  money,  the 
time  was  thought  ripe  to  place  the  suspected  “  Ameri¬ 
can  ”  under  arrest.  The  officers  had  to  wait  about 
some  time  before  their  man  arrived.  It  was  not  until  n 
p.m.  on  August  loth  that  they  visited  the  hotel  where 
he  was  staying  and  knocked  at  his  bedroom  door.  A 
voice  with  a  carefully-pronounced  American  accent 
bade  them  come  in,  and  on  opening  the  door  the  police 
found  Ries  just  in  the  act  of  undressing.  Whether 
he  actually  expected  to  be  arrested  on  a  charge  of 


Irving  Guy  Hies. 


\To  face  p.  148.*' 


The  Concealed  Name 


149 


espionage  is  doubtful,  for  his  first  words  were  :  "  All 
right ;  you  are  late ;  I  expected  you  last  night. 
I  quite  expected  this,  as  I  know  there  was  some 
misunderstanding  about  my  passport  at  the  American 
Consulate.”  It  is  possible  that  Ries  was  unaware 
that  we  really  wanted  him  on  a  charge  of  spying,  but 
of  that  fact  he  was  not  notified  until  the  following  day, 
when  he  was  taken  to  Scotland  Yard  to  be  interro¬ 
gated  before  the  civil  and  military  authorities. 

He  was  one  of  those  prematurely  grave  German- 
Americans,  the  product  of  too  much  study  and  too 
little  exercise,  and  he  answered  the  questions  with  a 
thoughtful,  deliberate  manner  which  showed  that, 
whatever  might  have  been  the  motive  which  induced 
him  to  spy,  he  had  gone  into  it  with  open  eyes.  Accord¬ 
ing  to  his  own  statement  he  had  been  born  at  Akron, 
Ohio,  in  1890,  and  his  full  name  was  Irving  Guy  Ries. 
It  was  suggested  to  him  that  this  was  not  his  real 
name,  and  after  a  little  hesitation  he  agreed  that  this 
was  so.  But  when  pressed  to  reveal  his  true  one  he 
shook  his  head  :  “  No,  I  guess  I  cannot  do  that,” 
he  said  slowly  ;  “  it  would  give  a  great  deal  of  pain 
to  others.” 

However,  he  was  frank  enough  concerning  his  move¬ 
ments  and  intentions,  saying  that  he  was  going  on  to 
Copenhagen  after  he  had  finished  here.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  he  had  arranged  to  leave  for  the  Danish  capital 
only  the  day  prior  to  his  arrest,  but  had  been  detained 
owing  to  his  passport  being  in  possession  of  the  authori¬ 
ties.  Amongst  the  belongings  of  the  accused  man 
was  found  a  letter  from  Rotterdam,  ordering  him  to 
meet  a  certain  person  in  Copenhagen  and  report  to 
him  the  result  of  his  investigations  in  Great  Britain. 
When  they  asked  him  to  indicate  what  transactions 


150  German  Spies  at  Bay 

he  had  carried  out  during  his  visit  to  the  North  he 
dropped  all  pretence  of  his  mission  being  connected 
with  commerce.  “  I  am  in  your  power,”  he  said; 
“  do  what  you  like  with  me,  but  when  you  ask  me  my 
real  name  I  shall  not  give  it.” 

There  was  nothing  more  to  be  done  except  remove 
him  to  prison  to  await  trial  by  court-martial.  His 
case  was  rather  unique  in  that  he  had  not  attempted 
to  communicate  with  the  enemy,  although  no  possible 
doubt  existed  that  he  was  a  German  spy.  He  never 
used  invisible  ink  as  far  as  could  be  discovered,  nor  did 
he  attempt  to  cable  to  anyone.  His  plan  was  one  that 
the  enemy  Secretary  of  Secret  Service  had  perforce 
adopted  in  the  light  of  experience,  that  of  a  flying  visit 
on  a  commercial  errand,  with  the  spy  carrying  the  in¬ 
formation  in  his  head. 

Ries  was  tried  on  four  charges,  as  follows  : 

(1)  Doing  an  act  preparatory  to  the  com¬ 
mission  of  an  act  prohibited  by  Regulation  48 
of  the  D.O.R.A.,  namely,  an  act  preparatory  to 
collecting  without  lawful  authority  information 
of  a  nature  that  might  be  useful  to  the  enemy. 

(2)  Without  lawful  authority  or  excuse,  having 
been  in  communication  with  a  spy. 

(3)  Being  found  in  possession  of  a  false  passport. 

(4)  Having  falsely  represented  himself  to  be  a 
person  to  whom  a  passport  had  been  duly  issued. 

The  accused  man  duly  faced  his  judges  on  October 
4th,  the  trial  lasting  two  days.  The  British  Govern¬ 
ment,  following  the  usual  practice  of  providing  counsel 
for  people  being  tried  for  their  lives,  had  briefed  a 
notable  exponent  of  the  criminal  code,  who  defended  his 
client  with  great  ability.  It  was  all  in  vain,  however, 


Courtenay  de  Rysbach.  Courtenay  de  ltysbach. 


151 


A  Last-moment  Confession 

Ries  being  found  guilty  of  espionage  and  sentenced  to  be 
shot.  He  was  removed  to  Wandsworth  prison  pending 
the  execution,  and  while  there  proved  a  model  prisoner. 
All  his  time  was  spent  in  reading  and,  outwardly  at 
any  rate,  he  gave  the  impression  of  a  man  who  had  done 
with  life’s  earthly  cares  and  was  only  waiting  for  a 
preordained  end. 

It  is  probable  that  he  expected  the  American  Govern¬ 
ment  to  rescue  him  from  his  sentence  of  death,  but  no 
such  reprieve  came,  and  on  October  26th  he  was 
removed  to  the  Tower  of  London  for  execution  on  the 
morrow.  He  expressed  a  good  deal  of  curiosity  when  the 
assistant  provost-marshal  came  for  him,  and  wanted  to 
know  where  he  was  being  taken.  When  told  he  was  to 
be  shot  there  at  dawn  the  following  morning  his  studious 
reserve  broke  down  for  the  first  time,  and  late  that 
night  in  the  Tower,  possibly  under  religious  influence, 
he  called  for  writing  materials  and  wrote  out  a  full 
confession  of  his  guilt,  giving  also  his  true  name. 
No  good  purpose  would  be  served  by  revealing  it  now. 
His  people  were  respectable  citizens  of  the  United 
States,  to  whom  the  public  knowledge  of  their  son’s 
ignominious  death  would  be  nothing  but  a  source  of 
everlasting  shame. 

When  led  forth  for  execution  he  took  one  philosophic 
glance  at  the  chair  which  was  soon  to  hold  his  dead 
body,  and  then,  with  a  grave  smile,  requested  that  he 
might  be  permitted  to  shake  hands  with  the  firing  party. 
This  privilege  was  accorded  him,  and  when  it  was  over 
he  remarked  :  “You  are  only  doing  your  duty,  as  I 
have  done  mine.”  He  died  like  a  brave  man,  whose 
efforts  to  spare  pain  to  his  aged  mother  and  father 
may  be  counted  to  him  in  atonement  of  his  sins. 


152 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

It  will  always  be  a  source  of  great  satisfaction  to  us 
that  not  once  during  the  war  was  a  British  subject  of 
pure  descent  found  guilty  of  communicating  with  the 
enemy.  Such  patriotism  does  not  appear  to  have 
inspired  the  Germans,  for  there  were  thousands  of 
them  who  were  glad  to  work  for  the  Allies,  in  addition 
to  any  number  of  captured  German  agents  who  offered 
to  go  back  to  the  Fatherland  and  spy  for  us. 

During  the  period  of  the  war  the  Germans  made 
strenuous  efforts  to  induce  men  interned  in  the  famous 
Ruhleben  Camp,  outside  Berlin,  to  come  to  England  to 
spy  for  them,  promising  them  fabulous  sums  of 
money  if  they  would  betray  their  country.  But  it 
would  seem  that  the  method  was  not  particularly  suc¬ 
cessful,  even  less  so  than  the  attempt  to  form  an  Irish 
Brigade.  We  had  to  deal  with  only  one  case,  that  of 
a  man  who  bore  the  high  sounding  name  of  Courtenay 
Henslop  de  Rysbach,  a  British  subject,  although  one 
would  hardly  gather  so  from  his  name.  In  point  of 
fact  his  father  was  an  Austrian,  naturalized  in  Great 
Britain,  an  eminently  respectable  individual  to  whom 
his  son’s  crime  brought  the  greatest  abhorrence. 

De  Rysbach  was  a  vaudeville  artist,  well-known  in 
this  country,  who  was  fulfilling  an  engagement  in 
Germany  on  the  outbreak  of  war.  He  was  one  of  those 
alleged  comedians  who  juggle  a  little,  sing  a  little,  and 
do  odd  tricks  with  bicycles.  According  to  his  own 
statement  he  had  been  swept  into  Ruhleben  along  with 
other  foreigners  when  the  war  came,  and  was  one  of 
those  who  responded  when  Secret  Service  agents  crept 
insidiously  through  the  camp,  attempting  to  seduce  the 
national  allegiance  of  the  men  interned  there.  De 
Rysbach  proved  corruptible,  so  he  was  brought  into 
Berlin  and  underwent  some  sort  of  course  in  spying. 


153 


The  Songs  of  a  Spy 

Leaving  the  German  capital  on  June  20th,  he  arrived 
in  Zurich,  Switzerland,  and  from  there  managed  to 
proceed  to  Paris,  posing  as  a  British  subject  who  had 
been  released  from  internment  owing  to  reasons  of 
health.  He  landed  at  Folkestone  on  June  27th,  and, 
after  undergoing  a  severe  cross-examination  from  the 
port  authorities,  was  able  to  satisfy  them  he  was  a 
British  subject.  So  he  came  to  London,  where  his 
appearance  in  the  old,  familiar  haunts  caused  much 
astonishment. 

As  a  British  subject  de  Rysbach  was,  of  course,  per¬ 
mitted  to  move  about  the  country  without  restriction. 
He  appears  to  have  utilized  the  time  to  collect  some 
sort  of  information,  for  in  the  Postal  Censorship  one 
day  there  was  detained  two  songs  addressed  to  a  man 
in  Zurich.  Both  were  set  to  music,  one  being  called 
“  The  Ladder  of  Love,”  the  other  "  On  the  way  to 
Dublin  town,”  probably  a  variation  of  “  Tipperary.” 
This  was  something  new,  so  the  censorship  officials 
decided  to  investigate  further.  A  suitable  re-agent 
was  sought,  and  sure  enough,  there  appeared  between 
the  bars  of  music  a  comprehensive  account  of  things 
the  writer  had  seen  in  this  country.  The  songs  were 
signed  with  the  name  “  Jack  Cummings,  Palace 
Theatre,  London,”  but  on  investigation  these  proved 
to  be  fictitious.  No  such  person  existed  there. 

The  trail  proved  a  rather  laborious  one,  and  it  was 
not  until  some  weeks  later  that  de  Rysbach  was  tracked 
to  Glasgow,  where,  in  company  with  a  female  trick 
cyclist,  he  was  billed  in  large  letters  to  appear  at  a 
local  music-hall.  He  appears  to  have  been  a  ubiquitous 
sort  of  individual,  for  amongst  his  other  activities  he 
confessed  to  having  attempted  to  obtain  a  post  in  the 
censorship.  Whether  he  thought  this  would  afford 


154  German  Spies  at  Bay 

him  the  opportunity  of  passing  his  own  communications 
through  unchecked  was  never  ascertained,  although 
there  is  no  doubt  his  was  the  type  of  mind  impudent 
enough  for  anything. 

However,  he  was  taken  to  London,  and,  when  inter¬ 
rogated,  spun  a  long  story  of  how  to  gain  his  liberty 
he  had  promised  to  serve  the  Germans,  although  all 
the  time  his  intentions  were  perfectly  harmless.  De 
Rysbach  informed  us  that  the  Germans  had  supplied 
him  with  secret  ink  made  up  in  the  form  of  a  pomade 
and  that  he  had  thrown  it  all  away  while  crossing  Lake 
Constance,  keeping  just  one  tube  as  a  souvenir.  He 
also  told  us  that  the  Germans  would  have  him  assas¬ 
sinated  in  London  if  he  attempted  to  betray  them. 
Such  a  tale  was  hardly  credible  enough  in  view  of  the 
information  he  had  already  tried  to  transmit,  so  a 
summary  of  evidence  was  taken  and  laid  before  the 
authority  responsible,  who  decided  that  de  Rysbach 
should  be  committed  for  trial  to  the  Old  Bailey.  As 
a  British  subject  he  had  the  right  to  be  tried  before 
a  judge  and  jury. 

The  defence  was  that  mentioned  in  the  previous 
chapter,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  it  appears  to 
have  carried  weight  with  some  of  the  jury,  for  there 
was  a  disagreement  which  ended  in  the  jury  being 
discharged.  It  was  thought  by  de  Rysbach  that  he 
would  be  released,  but  he  was  speedily  disabused  of 
that  idea.  In  October,  1915,  he  was  again  brought  to 
trial  and  this  time  the  jury  empanelled  had  no  hesita¬ 
tion  in  placing  the  proper  construction  upon  his  action. 
He  was  found  guilty  and  sentenced  to  penal  servitude 
for  life,  extremely  fortunate  to  have  escaped  the  full 
penalty  of  the  law. 

Although  the  name  of  the  prisoner  was  never  made 


A  Lenient  Sentence 


155 


public  at  the  time,  the  fact  that  a  British  subject  had 
been  tried  and  found  guilty  of  communicating  with 
the  enemy  and  sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  life 
was  announced  anonymously  and  evoked  the  following 
comment  from  that  well-known  newspaper.  The 
Westminster  Gazette,  which  certainly  could  never 
be  accused  of  blood-thirstiness  : 

“  As  we  are  not  allowed  to  know  the  facts,  we 
can  express  no  opinion  upon  the  sentence  of  penal 
servitude  for  life  passed  upon  a  prisoner  charged 
with  collecting,  recording  and  attempting  to  com¬ 
municate  with  the  enemy  information  as  to  war 
preparations.  But  the  public  will  undoubtedly 
feel  that  the  sentence  is  a  lenient  one,  seeing  that 
the  prisoner  is  a  British  subject.  The  offence  of 
a  British  spy  caught  in  such  work  as  this  is  in¬ 
finitely  more  serious  and  despicable  than  that 
of  a  foreigner  who  is  endeavouring  to  serve  his 
own  country.  We  can  only  assume  that  there 
were  circumstances  in  the  case  which  led  the 
judges  to  take  the  view  they  have  of  the  crime 
committed.  The  Bench  was  a  strong  one,  con¬ 
sisting  of  Mr.  Justice  Darling,  Mr.  Justice  Avory 
and  Mr.  Justice  Rowlatt,  and  we  must  rely  on 
what  we  know  of  them  in  believing  that  the 
punishment  is  adequate.” 

De  Rysbach’s  true  character  was  fully  revealed 
after  his  sentence.  He  sent  for  an  official  from  the 
counter-espionage  section  and  gave  him  the  fullest 
details  of  how  he  had  joined  the  German  Secret  Service 
in  Berlin,  what  he  had  learnt  there,  and  wound  up  by 
offering  to  serve  us  if  we  would  only  release  him. 


156  German  Spies  at  Bay 

Needless  to  say  such  a  proposition  did  not  interest  us. 
We  thought  prison  a  much  safer  place  for  young  men 
of  such  an  opportune  turn  of  mind. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

Of  all  the  despicable  characters  utilized  by  the  Ger¬ 
mans  for  their  secret  service  work,  that  of  Albert 
Meyer  was  easily  the  worst.  In  addition  to  being  a 
spy,  he  was  an  incorrigible  coward,  who  gave  a  dis¬ 
gusting  exhibition  of  lack  of  courage  when  the  time 
came  for  his  execution,  a  souteneur,  a  defrauder  of 
landladies  and,  perhaps  the  greatest  crime  of  all,  a 
cheater  of  the  people  who  employed  him. 

About  the  end  of  June,  1915,  the  Postal  Censorship 
staff  entrusted  with  the  checking  of  letters  to  Holland 
came  across  a  communication  to  The  Hague,  the  address 
of  which  was  that  of  a  German  spy  bureau.  The 
letter  was  forwarded  on  to  the  laboratory  which  devel¬ 
oped  invisible  inks,  and  was  discovered  to  be  the 
medium  of  the  usual  message  written  between  the 
lines.  There  was  a  name  and  address  on  the  paper, 
but  these  proved  to  be  false,  so  we  had  to  sit  down 
and  wait  for  a  time. 

During  the  next  few  weeks  many  more  of  these  letters 
came  through,  all  of  them  in  the  same  handwriting, 
but  all  containing  different  names  and  addresses, 
which  were  fictitious.  A  long-continued  search  was 
taken  up  with  the  clues  already  revealed,  which  in  all 
conscience  were  slight  enough.  There  were  only 
two  :  that  the  writer  was  of  foreign  nationality  and 
that  he  was  living  somewhere  in  London. 

After  many  days  of  intricate  work  the  officials  went 
to  a  dingy  lodging  house  in  Soho  and  apprehended  an 
insignificant-looking  little  Jew,  of  no'  certain  nation- 


— — 


Albert  Meyer. 


[To  face  p.  156. 


A  Shameless  Liar 


157 


ality,  who  was  living  with  an  English  mistress  as  bad  as 
himself.  He  said  his  name  was  Albert  Meyer  and  that 
he  knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  letters  then  in 
possession  of  the  authorities. 

When  brought  to  Scotland  Yard  for  examination  he 
lied  with  an  effrontery  which  Ananias  himself  would 
have  been  ashamed  of.  His  reply  to  the  charge  of 
communicating  with  the  enemy  was  that  the  letters 
had  been  written  by  another  man,  who  had  left  the 
writing  materials,  including  the  invisible  ink,  in  his 
charge  and  that  the  address  on  the  letter  which  brought 
about  his  downfall  had  been  the  malicious  work  of  his 
“  friend.”  When  it  was  suggested  to  him  that  he 
should  furnish  a  specimen  of  his  own  handwriting  he 
grew  indignant  and  with  an  injured  air  asked  his 
interrogator  if  he  thought  he  was  lying  ! 

Meyer’s  career  in  this  country  provided  an  interest¬ 
ing  study.  He  had  moved  from  one  lodging  house  to 
another,  promising  all  the  different  landladies  in  turn 
that  he  would  pay  them  when  his  remittances  arrived 
from  “  his  parents  ”  abroad.  Together  with  his 
female  companion  he  would  be  living  riotously  one 
day,  lunching  and  dining  in  the  most  expensive  res¬ 
taurants  he  could  find,  the  next  day  cadging  a  meal 
from  some  foreign  restaurant  around  Soho,  with 
promises  of  early  payment  when  his  “  allowance  ” 
came  to  hand.  Always  there  were  the  earnings  of 
his  mistress  to  fall  back  upon. 

Not  content  with  this  he  even  cheated  his  employers, 
his  letters  being  a  mass  of  highly-coloured  fictitious 
intelligence,  which,  had  it  reached  the  Germans,  would 
certainly  have  done  them  more  harm  than  good. 
Altogether  he  was  a  pretty  specimen  of  the  international 
adventurer,  whose  shameless  lying  and  attempt  to 


158 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

cast  guilt  on  innocent  people  diverted  any  sympathy 
which  might  have  been  felt  for  him. 

He  was  tried  by  court-martial  on  November  5th-6th, 
on  six  charges  under  the  Defence  of  the  Realm  Act, 
being  found  guilty  and  condemned  to  death  by  shooting. 
The  scene  which  took  place  at  his  execution  at  the 
Tower  on  December  2nd,  1915,  revealed  the  cowardly 
nature  of  the  man  to  the  full.  It  was  fully  expected, 
judging  by  his  demeanour  during  the  period  he  was 
waiting  to  be  shot,  that  he  would  prove  awkward,  but 
nothing  untoward  happened  until  the  morning  of  the 
execution.  When  the  dread  summons  came  in  the 
cold  dawn  he  was  then  in  an  hysterical  state  and  when 
escorted  from  his  cell  suddenly  burst  into  a  wild  effort 
to  sing  “  Tipperary.”  His  guard  attempted  to  silence 
him,  but  all  in  vain. 

He  stopped  on  reaching  the  miniature  rifle  range 
where  he  was  to  be  shot  and  cast  a  raving  eye  at  the 
chair  standing  in  the  middle.  Then  he  burst  into  a 
torrent  of  blasphemous  cursing,  reviling  his  Maker 
and  calling  down  the  vengeance  of  Heaven  on  those 
who  had  deserted  him.  Struggling  fiercely  with  his 
stalwart  guard,  he  was  forcibly  placed  in  the  chair 
and  strapped  tightly  in.  Before  the  bullets  of  the 
firing  party  could  reach  him  he  had  torn  the  bandage 
from  his  eyes,  and  died  in  a  contorted  mass,  shouting 
curses  at  his  captors,  which  were  only  stilled  by  the 
bullets. 

Meyer,  along  with  Rosenthal,  was  the  youngest 
spy  to  be  shot.  But,  unlike  the  latter,  who  went  to 
his  doom  with  some  semblance  of  courage,  he  was  the 
most  arrant  coward  who  ever  lived. 


CHAPTER  X 


Scotland  Yard — The  part  it  played  in  counter-espionage — Sir 
Basil  Thomson — How  he  interrogated  the  spies — The  Odyssey 
of  Captain  Hans  Boehm — A  bow  which  betrayed  a  German 
agent — Madame  Popovitch — A  lady  who  took  us  unawares — 
Kenneth  Triest,  student  and  would-be  spy — Joseph  Marks 
and  his  code. 

I  suppose  I  am  not  divulging  a  jealously-guarded 
secret  when  I  say  that  quite  a  healthy  rivalry  existed 
over  the  question  as  to  who  could  claim  most  credit 
for  the  capture  and  conviction  of  the  many  spies  who 
came  to  this  country.  Scotland  Yard  always  smiled 
in  a  superior  fashion  when  the  subject  came  up  for 
discussion,  asking  where  would  the  Counter-Espionage 
section  be  without  them,  whilst  the  officials  of  that 
department,  with  great  complacency,  would  merely 
reply :  “  Well,  of  course,  you  know,  Scotland 

Yard - ” 

Now  the  plain  truth — which  is  never  to  be  despised — 
is  that  one  was  essential  to  the  other.  The  Counter- 
Espionage  section  possessed  the  organization  which 
enabled  it  to  keep  in  touch  with  most  of  the  enemy 
agents  who  came  to  England.  In  the  closing  years 
of  the  war  the  German  Secret  Service  had  grown 
so  extensive  that  its  agents  were  in  every  neutral 
capital,  and  if  we  were  to  keep  ourselves  informed 
of  their  activities  it  was  necessary  that  we  should 
have  people  able  to  keep  trace  of  their  movements 
and  warn  the  authorities  in  England  when  one  of 
the  spies  was  about  to  depart  for  these  shores.  Once 
the  suspected  enemy  agent  arrived  here  his  or  her 

159 


160 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

subsequent  movements  were  passed  on  to  the  Special 
Branch  at  Scotland  Yard  for  supervision.  And,  in 
due  course,  when  it  was  thought  advisable  to  arrest 
the  supposed  spy,  it  was  Scotland  Yard  which  was 
entrusted  with  the  task. 

In  a  chapter  concerned  with  the  executive  side  of 
counter-espionage  the  activities  of  the  Special  Branch 
at  the  “  Yard  ”  merit  more  than  passing  attention. 
Theirs  was  the  organization  upon  which  the  system 
for  checking  the  registration  and  movements  of 
foreigners  in  London  was  founded. 

The  Special  Branch  was  brought  into  existence 
primarily  for  political  purposes.  It  became  inevitable 
that  some  department  had  to  be  created  to  deal  with 
the  numerous  political  refugees  who  fled  to  England 
when  their  own  country  became  too  hot  to  hold  them, 
for  the  activities  of  some  of  these  gentry  were  dis¬ 
tinctly  anarchical  in  character.  In  addition  to  this 
it  was  the  Special  Branch  which  was  charged  with  the 
safety  of  the  Royal  Family,  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
the  care  of  prominent  political  personages,  and  also 
the  safeguarding  of  any  foreign  notabilities  who  might 
be  visiting  these  shores.  Judged  in  the  light  of  re¬ 
sults  the  department,  although  very  small,  was  highly 
efficient. 

Strictly  speaking,  we  do  not  possess  a  Secret  Police 
of  the  type  known  on  the  Continent,  especially  in 
France  and,  in  the  days  of  the  Tsars,  in  Russia.  It 
says  much  for  the  common  sense  of  our  people,  living 
in  a  land  where  the  subject  enjoys  moi'e  personal 
liberty  than  any  of  the  other  great  nations,  that  they 
have  never  abused  their  hardly-won  rights  to  an 
extent  that  would  necessitate  the  maintenance  of  a 
Secret  Police.  In  no  spirit  of  egoism  may  we  con- 


161 


A  Loyal  Race 

gratulate  ourselves  on  that  phase  of  our  character  ; 
the  war  proved  conclusively  the  truth  of  that  haunting 
little  jingle : 

Come  the  four  corners  of  the  world  in  arms 
And  we  shall  shock  them  ; 

Nought  shall  make  us  rue 
If  England  to  itself  do  rest  but  true. 

“  Jingoism,”  the  Little  Englander  will  say,  with  a 
sneer.  Perhaps  it  is,  but  we  are  so  deprecatory  of 
our  own  efforts  that  an  occasional  reference  to  what 
we  have  done  in  the  past  is  surely  pardonable. 

How  true  England  remained  to  herself  is  revealed 
by  the  fact  that  throughout  the  entire  war  only  one 
British  subject  was  prosecuted  on  a  charge  of  High 
Treason,  the  unhappy  Roger  Casement.  We  never 
suffered  from  traitors  as  did  some  of  our  Allies  ;  there 
was  not  a  newspaper  or  publication  in  the  country 
guilty  of  receiving  a  subsidy  from  German  sources  ; 
our  statesmen,  whatever  their  political  opinions  may 
have  been,  never  acted  with  anything  but  the  most 
unswerving  loyalty  to  the  land  of  their  birth. 

The  fact  of  being  able  to  rely  fearlessly  on  the 
integrity  of  the  people  eased  many  of  our  difficulties 
through  the  long  and  dreary  months  in  which  the 
war  dragged  on.  It  enabled  the  counter-espionage 
authorities,  in  conjunction  with  Scotland  Yard,  to 
devote  their  combined  efforts  in  checking  the  under¬ 
hand  activities  of  enemy  agents  and  so  controlling 
our  alien  population  that  we  were  always  able  to  place 
our  hand  on  anyone  wanted. 

It  was  the  Counter-Espionage  section,  of  course, 
which  was  responsible  for  the  discovery  of  spies  who 
arrived  here.  Scotland  Yard  does  not  advance  any 
claim  in  that  direction.  Information  would  be 


n 


162 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

received  from  a  neutral  capital  that  so  and  so,  sus¬ 
pected  to  be  an  enemy  agent,  was  leaving  for  England. 
Naturally,  a  close  watch  was  kept  on  the  supposed 
spy,  both  his  correspondence  and  movements  being 
under  surveillance.  In  the  case  of  a  spy  who  had 
not  definitely  committed  himself  it  was  necessary  to 
establish  a  case  which  would  stand  legal  argument ; 
that  was  where  Scotland  Yard  came  in.  The  difference 
between  actual  evidence  and  hearsay  is  hardly  a 
matter  for  anyone  without  experience  of  the  law  of 
evidence.  There  were  numberless  inquiries  necessary 
before  it  was  possible  to  detain  a  suspected  person, 
and  in  delicate  work  of  this  nature  the  highly-trained 
officers  of  the  Special  Branch  were  always  being 
utilized. 

When  it  was  decided  to  arrest  a  supposed  enemy 
agent  Scotland  Yard  was  called  upon.  The  Counter- 
Espionage  officials  never  did  this  themselves ;  for 
one  thing  it  did  not  command  the  necessary  personnel 
outside  the  military  police,  and  in  all  such  matters 
previous  experience  was  highly  essential.  There  were 
hundreds  of  people  detained  during  the  war  on  sus¬ 
picion  of  being  connected  with  enemy  espionage, 
but  we  possessed  no  definite  proof  and  could  only 
hold  them  for  examination.  The  great  majority 
were,  of  course,  quite  innocent  of  any  evil ;  they  had 
unwittingly  come  into  contact  with  a  spy  and  had 
only  to  prove  their  genuineness  to  be  released.  There 
were  dozens  of  cases  where  aliens  were  either  interned 
or  deported  ;  it  was  really  astonishing  the  number 
of  people  whose  actions  were  open  to  suspicion  or 
detrimental  to  the  welfare  of  the  nation.  We  brought 
some  thirty  spies  to  justice  ;  for  lack  of  the  necessary 
evidence  there  were  dozens  whom  it  was  impossible 


Interrogation  at  the  “  Yard  ”  163 

to  try.  We  could  only  intern  them  or  expel  them 
with  a  strict  warning  not  to  attempt  to  enter  the 
United  Kingdom  again. 

The  interrogation  of  suspected  persons,  always  a 
matter  of  greatest  importance  in  criminal  procedure, 
was  conducted  at  Scotland  Yard  under  the  aggis  of 
Sir  Basil  Thomson,  the  Assistant  Commissioner  of 
the  Metropolitan  Police.  Although  the  Counter- 
Espionage  section  possessed  several  barristers  capable 
of  examining  suspected  people,  they  had  no  accom¬ 
modation  for  detaining  anyone,  nor  did  they  have 
a  detective  staff  at  their  beck  and  call,  so  the  au¬ 
thorities  decided  that  Mr.,  after  Sir  Basil,  Thomson 
should  have  charge.  The  choice  appears  to  have 
been  well  justified.  There  were  many  instances  where 
nothing  but  skilful  questioning  elicited  the  desired 
information,  for  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the 
average  German  agent,  whether  a  spy  actually  cap¬ 
tured  in  this  country,  or  a  man  attempting  to  make 
his  way  in  a  vessel  proceeding  through  the  war  zone, 
was  invariably  primed  with  a  story  which  might  pass 
muster.  Sir  Basil  Thomson  had  the  duty  of  getting 
at  the  truth,  a  rather  difficult  matter  with  some  of 
the  colossal  liars  who  came  our  way.  It  was  an 
onerous  task  ;  right  throughout  the  war  there  were 
on  an  average  four  interrogations  a  day,  sometimes  as 
many  as  ten. 

Before  any  of  these  examinations  took  place  Scotland 
Yard  was  supplied  with  a  precis  of  the  evidence  against 
the  suspected  one.  Sometimes  the  facts  were  but 
slight ;  it  was  mainly  supposition,  which  might  or 
might  not  be  converted  into  certainty  by  a  clever 
interrogation.  It  was  all  done  very  pleasantly ; 
whoever  it  was  under  suspicion  would  be  conducted 

ii* 


164  German  Spies  at  Bay 

into  Sir  Basil’s  office,  asked  to  be  seated  and  then 
questioned  with  a  suavity  most  disarming  in  its  effect. 
There  was  none  of  the  Third  Degree  about  it ;  we 
were  content  to  rely  upon  properly-obtained  evidence 
and  give  the  persons  concerned  every  opportunity  of 
clearing  themselves.  Terrible  were  the  sordid  little 
tragedies  unmasked  by  these  examinations  ;  pitiful 
stories  of  domestic  trouble  in  foreign  lands  which  had 
necessitated  flight  to  England,  with  a  changing  of 
name  and  attempt  to  lead  a  new  life  that  was  not 
altogether  successful. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Germany,  probably 
through  lack  of  choice,  employed  agents  who  very 
largely  lived  on  their  wits  in  normal  times.  It  seems 
to  have  been  a  settled  principle  with  their  secret  ser¬ 
vice  to  get  hold  of  semi-destitute  people  with  a  pen¬ 
chant  for  extravagant  living  and  induce  them  to  spy 
on  the  promise  of  liberal  remuneration  according  to 
results.  From  the  Hun  point  of  view  this  was  emi¬ 
nently  satisfactory,  for  his  agents  rarely  returned  to 
claim  anything,  and  if  they  did  they  could  easily  be 
repudiated.  It  also  possessed  the  inestimable  advan¬ 
tage — to  the  Hun  arranging  matters — that  the  Im¬ 
perial  Government  could  be  cheated  out  of  something, 
by  particulars  of  fictitious  payments  to  agents.  The 
latter  was  the  worst  off  of  all,  although  he  usually 
contrived  to  cheat  the  Fatherland  by  sending  a  mass 
of  spurious  intelligence.  When  to  this  characteristic 
trait  was  added  the  fact  that  very  few  of  the  spies 
possessed  any  regard  for  the  commoner  conventions 
of  morality,  the  difficulty  of  getting  at  the  real  reason 
of  their  presence  in  England  will  readily  be  recognized. 
We  pay  rather  a  heavy  price  for  permitting  our  country 
to  be  used  as  an  asylum  for  all  the  Continental  nations. 


Sir  Basil  Thomson 


[7  o  face  p.  164. 


Sir  Basil  Thomson 


165 


However,  we  are  notoriously  long-suffering,  and  in 
the  interrogations  conducted  at  the  “  Yard  ”  we  had 
need  of  it  all. 

“  And  what  did  you  say  your  name  was  ?  ”  Sir 
Basil  Thomson  would  ask  someone  who  was  being 
examined. 

“  Jos6  Alphonso  de  Palmerito,”  would  be  the 
reply. 

"No,  no,  your  real  name,”  Sir  Basil  would  say 
patiently.  And  so  it  would  go  on.  An  infinity  of 
good  nature  and  patience  was  required  before  Jose 
would  grow  confused  over  his  innumerable  contra¬ 
dictions  and  give  us  the  information  we  desired. 

When  the  interrogation  was  finished  the  suspected 
was  either  detained,  to  be  proceeded  against  by  the 
military  authorities  with  a  view  to  court-martial, 
or  else  to  be  brought  before  the  Aliens  Advisory 
Committee  with  the  intention  of  deciding  the  necessity 
for  internment  or  deportation.  Failing  any  evidence 
of  connection  with  enemy  espionage,  the  interrogated 
one  was  informed,  with  an  apology,  that  he  or  she 
was  released,  although  in  many  cases  a  warning  was 
given  that  all  changes  of  address  had  to  be  notified 
to  the  police.  It  was  a  wearisome  routine,  but  highly 
necessary  ;  many  strange  creatures  found  their  way 
into  London  during  the  course  of  the  war. 

Very  few  people,  to  whom  the  name  of  Sir  Basil 
Thomson  is  a  household  word,  know  that  he  is  the 
son  of  the  late  Archbishop  of  York.  Unlike  his  father, 
he  was  given  a  legal  training,  and  after  becoming  a 
barrister  entered  the  Civil  Service.  He  became  one 
of  those  valuable  officials  who  have  done  so  much 
to  build  the  British  Empire,  for  in  the  course  of  a 
long  career  devoted  to  his  country  he  has  seen  much 


166 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

service  as  judge  and  native  administrator  in  the 
Colonial  Service.  On  returning  to  England  he  became 
governor  of  Dartmoor  and  Wormwood  Scrubbs 
Prisons,  being  appointed  to  Scotland  Yard  in  1913 
as  Assistant  Commissioner  of  Police.  This  office, 
especially  at  the  present  time,  has  become  one  of  the 
most  important  in  the  country ;  the  administrative 
troubles  of  the  police  in  recent  times,  which  have 
happily  been  kept  in  check  by  General  Sir  C.  F.  N. 
Macready,  necessitates  the  actual  work  of  the  police 
being  controlled  almost  entirely  by  four  Assistant 
Commissioners. 

The  outbreak  of  the  war  threw  an  immense  strain 
on  Scotland  Yard  and  particularly  on  Sir  Basil  Thom¬ 
son,  so  much  so  that  the  entire  internal  organization 
underwent  drastic  changes.  It  was  necessary  to  make 
it  possible  for  the  work  of  the  Special  Branch  to  receive 
the  attention  required  by  the  political  and  inter¬ 
national  situation  generally,  so,  with  that  object 
in  view,  ordinary  crime,  as  distinct  from  quasi-political 
matters,  was  temporarily  placed  under  other  officers, 
leaving  Sir  Basil  Thomson  free  to  devote  himself  to 
clearing  up  the  problems  which  arose  out  of  the  war. 
It  is  quite  possible  that  the  one-time  freedom  of 
movement  possessed  by  all  foreigners  here  is  to  be 
restricted  within  certain  limits  for  good.  Added  to 
which  there  is  certain  to  be  plenty  of  work  for  the 
Special  Branch  in  checking  the  entry  of  our  late 
enemies,  as  laid  down  by  the  new  Act. 

****** 

Psychology  played  a  great  part  in  the  interrogations 
conducted  at  Scotland  Yard.  As  may  be  imagined, 


The  Saboteer 


167 


most  of  the  German  agents  captured  by  us  made  a 
bold  fight  for  their  liberty,  and  possessed  no  compunc¬ 
tion  of  telling  the  most  impossible  lies  to  account  for 
their  presence.  These  liars  were  evident  enough : 
the  difficulty  was  to  trip  them  up.  The  great  thing 
was  a  true  perception  of  the  suspected  individual’s 
psychology ;  if  you  adapted  your  cross-examination 
cleverly  enough  you  might  achieve  wonders. 

One  such  interrogation  will  go  down  to  history  as 
a  classic.  It  is  the  Odyssey  of  Captain  Hans  Boehm, 
a  German  artilleryman. 

In  January,  1917,  the  Naval  Intelligence  Division 
received  information  that  a  certain  Captain  Boehm, 
who  had  been  in  the  United  States  on  a  mission  con¬ 
nected  with  sabotage,  might  be  returning  to  the 
Fatherland  before  long,  and  that,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
he  would  have  to  journey  through  the  war  zone.  So 
our  different  Boarding  Officers  were  duly  notified, 
although  it  was  hardly  expected  that  the  Captain 
would  be  travelling  under  his  own  name. 

Some  few  days  later,  the  Dutch  passenger  steamer 
Zeelandia  was  brought  into  Falmouth  for  examina¬ 
tion.  Amongst  the  people  aboard  was  an  individual 
who  carried  an  American  passport  in  the  rather 
extraordinary  name  of  Jelks  Leroy  Thrasher.  In 
personal  appearance  Mr.  Thrasher  was  certainly  not 
so  ferocious  as  his  name  ;  let  that  pass.  He  was  a 
clean-shaven  man,  fairly  tall,  with  blue  eyes  and 
brown  hair,  spectacles  and  a  general  air  of  being 
on  good  terms  with  the  world.  To  the  Boarding 
Officer,  in  a  strong  American  accent,  he  was  the  per¬ 
sonification  of  politeness,  too  much  so,  in  fact.  Taken 
in  conjunction  with  reasons  for  coming  to  Europe, 
which  appeared  rather  weak,  the  Boarding  Officer 


168  German  Spies  at  Bay 

thought  he  had  better  send  Mr.  Thrasher  to  London. 
Mr.  Thrasher  was  charmed,  and  only  regretted  that 
we  were  so  doubtful  of  his  American  citizenship. 

After  a  few  particulars  had  been  gathered,  Mr. 
Thrasher  was  taken  to  Scotland  Yard  to  be  interrogated 
by  Sir  Basil  Thomson.  His  memory  was  certainly 
a  marvellous  one ;  he  could  tell,  with  a  wealth  of 
detail,  his  early  life  in  Quitman,  Georgia,  how  many 
rooms  there  were  in  the  house  he  lived  in,  where  he 
had  gone  to  school,  the  colour  of  his  schoolmaster’s 
hair,  and  a  hundred  other  minor  matters,  all  of  which 
are  usually  forgotten  by  most  people.  His  recollec¬ 
tion  of  things  was  uncanny,  and  his  interrogator  had 
no  hesitation  in  telling  him  so. 

Obviously,  it  was  necessary  to  try  some  new  line. 

"  You  don’t  tell  your  story  at  all  well,”  said  Sir 
Basil  sadly.  “  I  believe  I  could  have  told  it  better 
myself.” 

Mr.  Thrasher  looked  highly  concerned  and  bowed 
— from  the  waist. 

Now,  with  all  due  deference  to  our  American  cousins, 
there  is  one  thing  more  certain  than  another,  they 
are  not  addicted  to  bowing  any  more  than  we  are — 
especially  from  the  waist.  So  being  certain  that 
Mr.  Thrasher  was  German,  Sir  Basil  sent  him  out  of 
the  room  for  a  few  moments  and  rang  up  the  Admiralty 
Intelligence.  “  Tell  me  the  names  of  two  or  three 
Germans  you  are  expecting,  quickly,”  he  said.  The 
desired  information  was  given  him,  one  of  them  being 
Captain  Boehm. 

Mr.  Thrasher,  still  smiling,  was  brought  back. 
"  How  do  you  account  for  the  fact  that  you  speak 
with  a  German  accent  ?  ”  said  Sir  Basil. 

“  Do  I  ?  ”  replied  Mr.  Thrasher,  highly  concerned. 


Trapped !  169 

"  Most  people  tell  me  I  speak  English  with  an 
American  accent.” 

“  You  are  not  doing  this  well,  Captain  Boehm,” 
remarked  Sir  Basil. 

Mr.  Thrasher  looked  highly  surprised,  but  said 
nothing. 

“  I  put  it  to  you  that  you  are  Captain  Boehm  ?  ” 
said  Sir  Basil. 

“  Yes,  I  am.” 

“  You  are  ?  ” 

“  I  am  Captain  Boehm.” 

“You  did  it  very  well.” 

“  The  game  is  up,”  answered  the  Captain  rue¬ 
fully. 

Believing  it  was,  he  told  them  the  story  of  his  life. 
And  very  interesting  it  proved.  The  son  of  a  burgo¬ 
master  in  Alsace,  he  had  been  well  educated  and  spent 
a  great  deal  of  his  life  in  America,  which  probably 
accounted  for  the  highly  plausible  story  he  pitched 
when  trying  to  persuade  us  that  he  was  Jelks  Leroy 
Thrasher. 

Somewhere  in  the  early  part  of  1916  the  Captain, 
then  commanding  a  battery  of  artillery  near  Wyts- 
chaete  in  Flanders,  was  sent  for  by  the  General  Staff 
in  Berlin.  It  seems  that  his  reputation  as  a  perfect 
specimen  of  an  American  had  become  common  property, 
and  Berlin  thought  they  could  not  employ  such  an 
individual  better  than  by  sending  him  to  the  United 
States  to  blow  up  munition  factories,  anything,  in 
fact,  which  might  obstruct  the  Allies’  supplies.  The 
gallant  Captain  made  no  objection  to  this  modern 
method  of  warfare,  and  after  some  few  weeks  duly 
arrived  in  the  States,  where  he  reported  himself  to 
that  pleasant  gang  under  Zimmerman  who  were 


170 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

doing  their  best  to  make  life  unpleasant  for  the  Ameri¬ 
can  working  man. 

“  How  did  you  get  to  America  ?  ”  we  asked  the 
Captain. 

No  answer. 

“  Did  you  go  in  a  submarine  ?  ”  we  persisted. 

“  I  did  not,”  he  replied  emphatically. 

And  wild  horses  could  not  have  dragged  the  informa¬ 
tion  out  of  him. 

Captain  Hans  Boehm  was  certainly  one  of  the  most 
accomplished  liars  in  existence,  but  he  made  the 
mistake  of  imagining  that  we  were  ignorant  of  his 
doings  in  America.  He  swore  he  had  never  met 
Heinrich  Bode,  a  famous  German  spy  in  America, 
who  was  arrested  not  long  after,  although  he  owned 
to  having  been  in  partnership  with  that  individual 
under  another  name.  He  also  admitted  having  met 
Roger  Casement  in  Germany.  Altogether  the  Captain 
gave  the  impression  that  if  he  had  not  been  laid  by 
the  heels  he  might  have  wreaked  considerable  damage. 

His  story  of  how  he  obtained  his  passport  afforded 
him  great  amusement.  Fully  appreciating  the  diffi¬ 
culties,  he  assumed  the  name  of  Thrasher,  a  family 
which  years  ago  lived  in  the  small  village  of  Quitman, 
in  Georgia.  The  family  had  died  out,  so  he  was 
safe  enough  on  that  score.  The  next  step  was  to  get 
somebody  to  endorse  his  application  for  a  passport, 
so  with  that  object  in  view  he  called  on  a  small  mer¬ 
chant  in  New  York  and  offered  to  act,  free  of  all  charge, 
as  his  agent  in  Europe.  Naturally  the  merchant  was 
only  too  delighted  to  get,  without  expense,  a  European 
representative  so  well-spoken  as  Mr.  Thrasher,  and 
willingly  acquiesced  in  the  suggestion  that  he  could 
be  referred  to  in  the  matter  of  a  passport.  A  passage 


171 


A  “  Military  Lodger  ” 

was  arranged  on  the  Zeelandia,  and  Mr.  Thrasher 
duly  made  the  trip  across,  enjoying  himself  hugely 
with  dances  and  card  parties. 

But  we  were  on  the  watch  for  somebody  of  Mr. 
Thrasher’s  description.  Only  a  few  weeks  previously 
a  communication  from  the  great  General  Staff  in  Berlin 
had  fallen  into  our  hands,  of  a  character  so  ominous 
that  we  anxiously  awaited  the  return  of  the  person 
concerned.  It  ran  as  follows  : 

“  The  General  Staff  has  decided  that  energetic 
action  should  be  taken  in  regard  to  the  proposed 
destruction  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway  at 
several  points,  with  a  view  to  complete  and  pro¬ 
tracted  interruption  of  traffic.  Captain  Boehm, 
who  is  known  on  your  side  and  is  shortly  return¬ 
ing,  has  been  given  instructions.  Inform  the 
Military  Attache,  and  provide  the  necessary 
funds.” 

That  message  was  addressed  to  Zimmerman,  and 
although  the  attempt  to  destroy  the  famous  Canadian 
railroad  never  succeeded,  thanks  to  the  precautions 
taken,  we  thought  it  advisable  for  Captain  Boehm 
to  remain  in  England  for  the  duration  of  the  war. 
So  the  Captain  was  duly  escorted  to  Brixton  Prison, 
where  he  was  entered  on  the  books  as  a  “  Military 
Lodger,”  a  description  which  appeared  to  afford  him 
the  most  intense  amusement.  We  informed  him  that 
if  his  Government  would  recognize  him  as  an  officer 
we  would  be  pleased  to  grant  him  the  privilege  of  an 
officer  prisoner  of  war.  We  also  added  that  it  would 
be  necessary  for  his  uniform  to  be  forwarded. 


172 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

The  Captain  was  nothing  loath,  as  the  following 
sprightly  epistle  shows : 

“  Military  Lodger  H.  Boehm, 

“  Brixton  Prison. 

“  i yth  January,  1917. 

“  My  Dears  ! 

“  Fate  has  now  seized  me  (to  say  nothing 
of  the  British),  and  I  am  one  of  the  many  prisoners 
of  war,  who,  until  peace  is  decided,  are  rendered  useless. 
Although  I  am  naturally  very  sad  about  it,  it  will  not 
be  unwelcome  news  for  you,  as  no  bullet  can  reach  me 
here — this  will  be  comforting  to  you  (and  doubtless 
to  Captain  Boehm).  That  I  am  behaving  and  keeping 
good  courage  in  my  unavoidable  position  can  be 
understood  ! 

“  As  soon  as  my  Government  acknowledges  me  as 
an  officer  of  the  army  and  as  soon  as  my  uniform 
arrives  (both  will  be  negotiated  through  the  American 
Embassy)  I  shall  be  transferred  to  an  officers’  Pri¬ 
soners’  Camp — till  then  I  am  interned  in  London.  As 
soon  as  I  am  placed  with  comrades  in  a  camp,  the 
position  I  am  in  will  be  more  easily  overcome. 

“You  need  not  worry  about  me ;  I  am  healthy  and 
in  good  spirits  and  have  no  complaints  to  make.  I 
wish  to  emphasize  that  the  treatment  meted  out  to  me 
right  throughout  has  been  very  good.  From  Admiral 
to  seaman,  all  were  very  kind  to  me,  and  the  com¬ 
prehension  of  the  situation  was  superior.  The  Ad¬ 
miral  said  to  me  :  ‘  We  have  no  interest  to  make 
difficulties  for  an  enemy  who  can  do  us  no  more 
harm.’  Please  bring  these  lines  to  the  knowledge  of 
my  superiors  in  the  General  Staff.  If  you  can  do  a 


The  Line  of  Least  Resistance  173 


friendly  action  to  an  English  prisoner,  do  it!  Every 
prisoner  must  feel  distressed.  The  only  thing  which 
greatly  distresses  me  is  the  thought  of  your  enlarged 
disillusionment,  and  the  anxiety  which  you  will  neces¬ 
sarily  have  till  you  receive  this  letter  in  your  hands. 
That  which  I  suffer  most  is  the  great  longing  to  be 
with  my  wife  and  children.  The  last  news  I  had 
was  dated  beginning  of  October.  I  think  it  would  be 
better  if  you,  Mama,  and  for  the  others,  will  write 
to  me,  in  German  of  course,  making  use  of  Latin 
characters.  Write  me  as  much  as  you  can  about  my 
dear  children,  but  do  not  acquaint  them  of  my  im¬ 
prisonment,  as  it  may  cause  them  an  unnecessary 
fright.  I  expect  it  will  take  another  two  weeks 
until  my  uniform  arrives.  I  shall  then  proceed  to  a 
prisoner-of-war  camp.  My  thoughts  are  always  with 
you,  and  I  kiss  you  in  faithful  love  ! 

(Signed)  “  Your  Hans.” 

Address  on  envelope  : 

“  Mrs.  Captain  Hans  Boehm, 

“  Berlin, 

“  Kurfiirstendamm  ioo  iii, 

“  Germany.” 

The  Captain  seems  to  have  realized  on  which  side 
his  bread  was  buttered,  to  judge  by  the  emphasis 
laid  on  the  good  treatment  he  was  enjoying.  But 
he  was  a  placid  sort  of  individual,  a  strong  believer 
in  the  line  of  least  resistance.  In  his  letter  to  Mrs. 
Captain  Hans  Boehm  he  enclosed  a  postal  order  for 
one  shilling,  although  he  omitted  to  state  whether 
this  was  the  lady’s  housekeeping  money  against  the 
time  of  his  return. 


174 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Sad  to  relate,  the  Captain  “  did  us  in  the  eye,”  to 
use  a  vulgar  phrase,  at  the  finish.  After  the  German 
Government  had  sent  his  uniform  and  conceded  the 
fact  that  he  belonged  to  the  German  Army,  he  was  sent 
to  Donington  Hall,  where  with  great  gusto  he  used 
to  relate  his  adventures.  Not  long  after  the  war  had 
finished  the  United  States  Government  thought  they 
would  like  to  have  a  little  talk  with  Captain  Boehm 
concerning  the  false  passport  of  Jelks  Leroy  Thrasher. 
Application  was  made  to  our  authorities  for  his  body, 
but  without  success.  The  Captain  had  managed  to 
get  back  to  Germany  in  a  batch  of  officer  prisoners 
only  a  few  weeks  previously.  Probably  he  will  never 
read  this  book  ;  if  he  does,  he  can  congratulate  him¬ 
self  on  having  escaped  a  further  twelve  months' 
imprisonment. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

The  fishermen  who  cast  their  nets  in  quest  of  spies 
found  many  strange  creatures.  Some,  like  Fernando 
Buschman,  who  was  married  to  the  daughter  of  a  mil¬ 
lionaire  soap  manufacturer  in  Dresden,  would  appear 
to  have  taken  up  this  perilous  pastime  for  the  pure 
love  of  adventure. 

Others,  of  the  Lody  and  Kiipferle  type,  were  appa¬ 
rently  inspired  by  love  of  their  Fatherland,  the  best 
motive  of  all.  The  great  majority,  of  course,  were 
mercenaries  pure  and  simple.  But  we  gathered  in 
quite  a  few  who  were  either  mentally  deranged  or 
tried  to  escape  the  consequences  of  their  wrongdoing 
by  feigned  insanity.  Such  a  one  was  Roos,  the  Dutch 
cigar  traveller,  whose  counsel  made  a  final  appeal  for 
clemency  on  the  ground  that  his  client  was  not  alto 


The  Voluble  Serbian 


175 


gether  responsible  for  his  actions.  The  authorities 
had  him  examined  by  mental  experts,  who  had  no 
hesitation  in  stating  that  the  condemned  man  was 
merely  shamming. 

Another  case  of  a  similar  type  was  that  of  Paul 
Rossinsky,  who  died  in  Brixton  Prison. 

There  was  one  spy,  however,  who  was  found  to  be 
actually  insane ;  on  no  other  grounds  could  we 
account  for  the  extraordinary  fashion  in  which  she 
behaved. 

About  the  end  of  1915,  the  year  which  was  a  bumper 
harvest  for  spies,  the  British  authorities  in  Malta 
began  to  grow  suspicious  of  certain  telegraph  messages 
handed  in  for  transmission  to  Switzerland.  All  these 
communications  were  a  meaningless  jumble  of  words  ; 
it  was  quite  evident  that  a  code  of  some  sort  was 
being  used.  After  vainly  puzzling  his  brains  over  it 
all,  the  competent  Military  Authority  decided  to 
detain  the  sender,  who  proved  to  be  a  woman  named 
Madame  Marie  Edvige  de  Popovitch.  Madame  said 
she  was  a  Serb,  and  had  come  to  Malta  for  the  sake  of 
her  health.  But  there  appeared  to  be  nothing  amiss 
with  that,  neither  with  her  tongue,  which  was  astonish¬ 
ingly  fluent.  Not  being  satisfied  with  the  explanation, 
we  placed  Madame  in  confinement,  and  eventually  sent 
her  off  to  England  in  H.M.S.  Terrible,  plus  her  belong¬ 
ings  and  two  canaries,  which  she  appeared  to  prize 
above  everything.  It  was  thought  advisable  to 
ascertain  exactly  what  Madame  Popovitch  repre¬ 
sented  in  the  German  Seciet  Service,  so  a  report  was 
sent  to  England  to  say  that  she  was  suspected  of 
communicating  the  names  of  vessels  passing  through 
Malta,  which  could  be  marked  down  for  destruction 
by  the  German  and  Austrian  submarines  operating 


176 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

in  the  Mediterranean  at  that  time.  Her  code  was  an 
ancient  dictionary,  with  the  appropriate  words  under¬ 
lined. 

On  arrival  at  Southampton  Madame  was  handed 
over  to  officials  from  Scotland  Yard.  Her  escort 
from  the  warship  appeared  by  no  means  sorry  to  part 
company  with  the  lady,  and  jokingly  warned  their 
successors  to  keep  a  strict  eye  on  her.  She  was  a 
stout,  bustling  little  body,  black-eyed,  and  talkative 
to  the  last  degree.  Her  parting  salutation  to  the 
naval  men  was  remarkable  for  its  comprehensiveness ; 
their  ultimate  arrival  in  Hades  was  one  of  the  mildest 
of  the  many  fates  she  prophesied  for  them. 

Now,  Scotland  Yard  should  have  been  warned  of  this. 
But  eighteen  months’  experience  of  voluble  spies  of 
all  nationalities  had  given  them  quite  a  false  con¬ 
fidence  ;  they  did  not  make  any  special  preparations 
for  Madame  Popovitch.  They  were  soon  to  learn 
their  mistake. 

Madame  took  command  of  the  sitting  from  the 
start.  There  was  no  need  to  question  her.  She 
could — and  did — do  all  the  talking.  She  started  from 
the  moment  she  was  escorted  into  the  examination 
room,  and  pictured  with  a  vividness  of  expression 
which  still  brings  a  blush  to  many  a  hardened  cheek 
the  past,  present  and  future  life  of  her  interrogators. 
She  shouted  so  that  none  within  two  miles  of  Scot¬ 
land  Yard  should  be  unable  to  hear  the  many  good 
things  she  had  to  say  concerning  the  meddlesome 
English  police.  None  could  get  a  word  in  edgeways, 
and  when  she  began  to  look  for  missiles  to  clear  the 
room,  the  time  was  thought  opportune  to  declare  the 
meeting  closed. 

Three  stalwart  policemen  waiting  in  the  corridor 


Troublesome  Times 


177 


outside  were  requisitioned  for  the  purpose  of  taking 
Madame  over  to  Cannon  Row  Police  Station.  They 
came  into  the  room  looking  dubious  about  it  ;  one 
could  gather  that  the  general  tenor  of  Madame’s  con¬ 
versation  had  not  escaped  their  notice.  Bracing 
themselves  to  the  task,  they  caught  hold  of  her,  and 
proceeded  to  hustle  her  across  the  way.  It  was  mid¬ 
winter,  but  by  the  time  the  struggling  bundle  of 
femininity,  spitting  fire  all  the  way,  had  been  lodged 
in  a  cell,  the  police  were  wiping  the  sweat  from  perspir¬ 
ing  brows  and  thanking  Heaven  they  did  not  possess 
Madame  Popovitch  as  wife. 

When  the  question  of  bringing  her  to  trial  was 
discussed,  it  was  thought  better  to  have  her  state  of 
mind  investigated.  A  courageous  doctor,  with  much 
experience  of  wild  women,  undertook  the  task,  and 
reported  that,  although  not  altogether  a  lunatic,  it 
was  inadvisable  to  try  Madame  for  her  life.  So  for 
the  time  being  she  was  placed  in  an  internment  camp. 

After  a  few  weeks  there  her  conduct,  consisting  of 
a  series  of  the  most  outrageous  allegations  against  the 
authorities  at  Malta,  the  Assistant  Commissioner  of 
Police,  everyone,  in  fact,  with  whom  she  had  been 
brought  in  contact,  became  so  outrageous  that  it  was 
deemed  safer  to  remove  her  to  the  female  convict 
prison  at  Aylesbury,  where  she  could  be  kept  in  proper 
confinement.  From  that  place  Madame  began  a 
bombardment  of  letters  to  everyone  in  authority.  A 
Home  Office  official,  taking  his  life  in  his  hands, 
eventually  visited  Aylesbury  to  see  her,  and,  if  possible, 
bring  her  to  reason.  But  his  mission  was  a  failure.  He 
spent  three  hours  in  the  lady’s  cell,  and  she  talked  all 
the  time.  She  told  him  of  the  dreadful  things  “  ce 
maudit  Basil  Thomson  ”  had  done,  of  the  unsym- 

12 


178 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

pathetic  prison  officials,  the  brutal  English  law,  and 
a  thousand  other  things  she  had  omitted  to  remember 
at  Scotland  Yard.  And  she  wound  up  by  saying 
that  the  only  specimen  of  the  English  gentleman 
she  had  ever  met  was  the  Captain  of  the  Terrible ! 

It  was  plainly  evident  that  Madame  Popovitch  was 
insane,  and  all  further  thought  of  bringing  her  to  trial 
on  a  charge  of  espionage  was  abandoned.  After  she 
had  been  at  Aylesbury  some  time,  the  Governor  of 
the  prison  reported  that  she  might  behave  better  if 
she  were  permitted  to  have  her  two  canaries  in  the 
cell  with  her.  The  birds  were  being  kept  by  one  of  the 
Scotland  Yard  police,  in  lieu  of  any  Government 
prison  ;  but  on  the  Governor’s  recommendation  they 
were  sent  to  Aylesbury,  where  in  their  cage  they  hung 
on  the  wall  of  the  cell,  and  afforded  Madame  a  peace 
of  mind  very  gratifying  to  the  harassed  prison  officials. 

Madame  Popovitch  appears  to  have  had  plenty  of 
friends,  some  of  whom  persuaded  one  of  those  egre¬ 
gious  M.P.’s  who  continually  find  pleasure  in  dis¬ 
paraging  their  own  country  to  bring  the  matter  of 
her  internment  before  the  House  of  Commons  on  the 
plea  that  she  was  a  Serbian  lady  belonging  to  a 
wealthy,  well-known  family.  But  knowing  what  they 
did,  the  Government  thought  Madame  was  much  better 
off  in  a  place  where  the  comings  and  goings  of  the 
English  mercantile  marine  did  not  greatly  matter. 

****** 

Many  stupid  people  came  to  England  at  different 
times  during  the  war  on  the  quest  for  information 
which  would  assist  the  enemy,  but  the  palm  would 
appear  to  belong  to  Kenneth  Triest,  a  nineteen-year- 


The  Princeton  Graduate  179 

old  graduate  from  the  American  University  of 
Princeton. 

Whether  this  youth  was  mentally  deranged  was 
never  quite  certain.  He  was  medically  examined  with 
a  view  to  finding  out,  the  verdict  being  that,  although 
responsible  enough  for  his  actions,  he  showed  a  soften¬ 
ing  of  the  brain  which  made  him  not  altogether  clear 
as  to  the  result  of  things  he  did.  Many  people  suffer 
from  this  failing,  I  know,  but  Triest  seems  to  have 
had  it  in  exaggerated  form.  It  must  be  confessed 
that  he  adopted  methods  which  negatived  any  sug¬ 
gestion  of  weak-mindedness.  Leaving  his  studies 
at  Princeton  in  the  middle  of  1915,  he  appears  to  have 
journeyed  to  Toronto  in  Canada,  where  his  English 
enabled  him  to  pass  without  suspicion  as  a  subject 
of  the  Dominion.  From  there  he  made  his  way  to 
London,  and,  after  hanging  around  for  some  time, 
:ame  in  touch  with  a  naval  officer,  who  believed  him 
to  be  a  Canadian,  and  found  him  a  position  in  the 
wireless  service.  He  certainly  showed  every  aptitude 
for  the  work,  and  was  assured  of  speedy  promotion. 

But  then  he  started  writing  letters  to  America,  one 
}f  which  was  intercepted.  He  said  that  he  was  in 
:he  British  Navy,  and  that  he  was  industriously  get- 
:ing  together  a  collection  of  naval  intelligence  which 
would  be  of  tremendous  interest  to  the  Germans  when 
le  arrived  in  the  Fatherland  with  it.  From  that  time 
mward  he  was  naturally  an  object  of  the  deepest 
suspicion,  which  was  more  than  confirmed  when  a 
urther  letter,  written  to  a  well-known  German  in 
London,  whom  he  asked  to  assist  him  in  getting  to 
Germany,  was  stopped.  In  this  letter  he  said  that 
ns  father  in  America  was  rendering  great  assistance 
n  forging  passports  for  spies  to  come  over  here,  a 

12* 


180 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

statement  which  was  subsequently  found,  as  was 
expected,  to  be  entirely  without  foundation. 

Judging  that  this  dangerous  youth  had  enjoyed 
sufficient  rope,  the  authorities  arrested  him  under  the 
Defence  of  the  Realm  Act,  and  after  going  into  his  case 
thoroughly  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  should 
stand  trial  by  court-martial  on  October  ist. 

The  case  caused  a  great  stir  in  America,  and  as  the 
result  of  pleas  made  to  Sir  Edward  Grey,  then  Secre¬ 
tary  of  State  for  Foreign  Affairs,  the  trial  was  post¬ 
poned  to  allow  of  Triest’s  mentality  being  investi¬ 
gated.  The  medical  experts  reported  that  he  was 
quite  fit  to  be  tried  for  his  life,  but  in  the  meantime 
more  appeals  had  been  flashing  across  the  Atlantic, 
especially  from  the  late  President  Roosevelt.  It 
was  decided  in  the  end  that  Triest  would  be  released, 
provided  his  father  came  for  him,  and  gave  a  solemn 
undertaking  that  his  son  would  get  into  no  further 
mischief.  Naturally,  the  boy’s  parents  were  delighted 
at  saving  his  life,  and  cheerfully  crossed  the  ocean  in 
November,  1915,  when  their  erring  offspring,  sadder 
and  wiser,  was  handed  over  to  their  care. 

There  would  seem  to  be  little  doubt  that  young 
Triest,  who  some  generations  back  was  of  German 
origin,  was  suffering  from  egregious  mania,  so  common 
to  adolescence,  and  that  in  releasing  him  we  did  a 
wise  and  humane  action.  Certainly  our  clemency 
created  a  wonderful  impression  in  the  United  States, 
and,  by  contrast  with  the  Cavell  case,  produced  a 
lasting  effect  which  we  were  to  appreciate  to  the  full 
when  America  entered  the  war  in  April,  1917. 

r- 

i  *  *  *  *  *  * 


The  Philatelist 


181 


If  Kenneth  Triest  was  a  comical  specimen  of  the 
German  spy,  although  the  enemy  knew  nothing  at  all 
about  him,  what  will  be  thought  of  J  oseph  Marks  ? 

Somewhere  about  the  middle  of  July,  1915,  Sir  Basil 
Thomson  was  paying  a  visit  of  inspection  to  the 
different  ports  where  aliens  entered  England.  On 
the  18th  July  he  was  at  Tilbury,  where  passengers 
from  Rotterdam  were  disembarked,  and  while  there 
the  official  examining  passports  came  and  reported 
to  him  that  in  the  next  room  there  was  an  individual 
waiting  to  be  passed  through  whose  conduct  gave 
ground  for  the  deepest  suspicion.  His  name  was 
Joseph  Marks,  and  he  carried  a  Dutch  passport. 

Nothing  loath,  Sir  Basil  went  to  see  Joseph,  who 
proved  to  be  a  huge  specimen  of  manhood,  over  six 
feet  high,  farmer-like  in  his  well-fed  appearance.  But 
Joseph  was  undoubtedly  an  arrant  coward,  despite 
his  size.  He  was  shaking  all  over  with  fear,  and  when 
Sir  Basil  began  to  cross-examine  him  he  eagerly 
offered  to  tell  everything,  provided  we  would  spare 
his  greatly-prized  life. 

A  strange  story  it  was.  Joseph  was  the  scion  of 
a  wealthy  commercial  family  in  Aix-la-Chapelle, 
whose  penchant  for  good  living  had  evidently  brought 
upon  him  the  suspicion  of  the  German  Government, 
for  thrice  had  they  accused  him  of  communicating 
with  agents  of  the  French  Secret  Service.  That 
may — or  may  not — have  been  true,  but  the  threat 
was  sufficient.  They  suggested  to  him  that  the  only 
way  by  which  he  could  prove  his  loyalty  was  by  pro¬ 
ceeding  to  England  to  obtain  naval  information. 
Between  the  devil  and  the  deep  sea,  J  oseph  consented. 
He  underwent  a  course  at  a  spy  school,  and  was  fur¬ 
nished  with  something  which  up  to  then  was  quite 


182 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

new  to  us  in  the  way  of  a  code — an  album  of  postage 
stamps.  Certainly  Joseph  Marks  did  not  look  as 
though  philately  would  be  a  hobby  of  his ;  that  does 
not  matter.  The  German  Secret  Service  never  worried 
about  such  trifles.  On  the  face  of  it  the  scheme  was 
an  ingenious  one.  Who  would  suspect  that  a  collec¬ 
tion  of  foreign  stamps  would  be  utilized  for  forwarding 
particulars  of  the  British  Navy  ?  The  plan  was  to 
send  to  Switzerland  stamps  of  a  certain  country. 
Ten  Nicaraguan  issues  would  represent  ten  battleships, 
and  so  forth. 

It  is  very  doubtful  whether  Joseph  ever  intended  to 
act  the  spy  ;  he  certainly  did  not  possess  the  courage. 
On  the  short  trip  across  the  Channel  his  fears  had 
obtained  possession  of  him ;  there  was  somebody 
aboard  the  steamer  who,  he  suspected,  was  waiting 
to  betray  him  to  the  English  authorities.  So  J oseph 
resolved  to  get  there  first. 

We  tried  him  by  court-martial  at  the  Westminster 
Guildhall  on  a  charge  of  having  held  communication 
with  an  enemy  agent  abroad,  and  then  attempting 
to  land  in  England.  The  sentence  was  five  years’ 
penal  servitude,  and  Joseph  was  very  grateful.  He 
knew  he  was  safe  for  the  duration  of  the  war.  He 
was  repatriated  to  Germany  in  October  last,  and  on 
his  departure  tendered  the  most  effusive  thanks  for 
the  manner  in  which  he  had  been  treated. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

I  sincerely  trust  I  am  not  disparaging  the  merits 
of  this  book  when  I  say  that  by  far  the  most  interesting 
incidents  of  the  many  thousands  of  cases  dealt  with 
at  Scotland  Yard  during  the  war  were  those  which 
turned  out  to  be  perfectly  harmless. 


Interludes 


183 


Towards  the  end  of  1914  the  naval  authorities  had 
reason  for  perturbation  over  the  behaviour  of  a  wealthy 
American  staying  at  the  Carlton  Hotel,  who  had 
bought  a  yacht  in  London  and  announced  to  all  and 
sundry  that  he  intended  sailing  her  into  the  Kiel 
Canal.  Not  in  the  least  approving  of  such  a  procedure, 
the  Admiralty  asked  Scotland  Yard  if  they  would 
mind  seeing  this  enterprising  individual  and,  if  possible, 
dissuading  him  from  such  an  intention.  So  a  letter 
was  sent  off  to  the  Carlton  Hotel  asking  him  to  call 
at  Scotland  Yard.  The  following  day  a  gigantic 
man,  about  seven  feet  high,  walked  into  Sir  Basil 
Thomson’s  room  at  the  “  Yard.”  He  was  chewing 
on  a  big  unlighted  cigar  and  did  not  think  that  there 
was  any  necessity  to  remove  his  hat. 

“  Waal,  what  do  you  want  ?  ”  he  asked,  striding 
up  to  Sir  Basil’s  desk. 

Sir  Basil,  recovering  from  his  preliminary  astonish¬ 
ment,  said,  “  Oh,  good  morning.  Won’t  you  take  off 
your  hat  and  sit  down  ?  ” 

“  No,  I  guess  I’ll  keep  it  on,”  replied  the  American. 

"  Oh,  do,  by  all  means,”  said  Sir  Basil.  “  I’m  sure 
you  look  very  nice  in  it.” 

“  Sure,”  was  the  confident  answer. 

“  Well,  now,”  said  Sir  Basil,  “  I  have  sent  for  you 
to  talk  about  that  little  trip  of  yours  to  Kiel.  You 
know,  I  am  afraid  we  shall  not  be  able  to  let  you 

go-” 

“  Say,”  was  the  answer,  “  how  do  you  reckon  you 
are  going  to  stop  me  ?  I’m  a  free-born  American 
citizen,  and  I  guess  I  can  please  myself  what  I  do.” 

“  No,  no,  you  are  mistaken,”  said  Sir  Basil  pleas¬ 
antly.  “You  see,  this  country  is  at  war,  and  we  don’t 
care  about  people  going  direct  to  the  Kiel  Canal 


184 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

without  our  permission.  You  will  surely  see  that 
we  cannot  allow  you  to  leave.” 

There  was  no  persuading  this  strong-willed  American 
gentleman,  so,  after  vainly  wasting  much  breath,  Sir 
Basil  told  him  that  if  he  persisted  in  his  proposed 
trip  we  should  have  no  option  but  to  send  him  back 
to  the  United  States. 

“  You  can’t  do  it,”  said  the  optimistic  one. 

“  Yes,  we  can,”  replied  Sir  Basil,  “  and  what  is  more, 
we  shall.” 

Obviously,  it  was  no  use  wasting  further  time  with 
this  seven  feet  of  pigheadedness,  so  he  was  allowed  to 
depart,  while  Scotland  Yard  communicated  with  the 
American  Embassy.  We  suggested  to  the  U.S.  officials 
that  they  might  send  a  message  to  New  York  to  ascer¬ 
tain  exactly  who  the  would-be  yachtsman  was.  A 
few  days  later  a  reply  came  back,  informing  the  Em¬ 
bassy  that  the  man  they  were  inquiring  about  was  a 
wealthy  American  who  had  recently  escaped  from  a 
private  lunatic  asylum  !  The  message  also  requested 
that  the  authorities  would  send  the  man  back  to  the 
States,  at  all  hazards. 

Another  letter  was  sent  forthwith  to  the  Carlton 
Hotel,  and  once  again  Sir  Basil’s  room  was  filled  with 
seven  feet  of  massive  obstinacy. 

"  Waal,  what  is  it  now  ?  ”  demanded  he. 

With  a  great  air  of  secrecy  Sir  Basil  sent  everyone 
out  of  the  room,  locked  the  door,  and  tiptoeing  up  to 
the  frankly  puzzled  American,  whispered,  “  I  have 
asked  you  to  come  here  to  give  you  a  little  tip.  They're 
after  you." 

“  What  ?  ”  shouted  the  gigantic  one. 

“  Yes,”  said  Sir  Basil.  “  I  hear  they  are  coming  for 
you  in  the  morning.  You  want  to  clear  out  at  once.” 


185 


A  Change  of  Colour 

Going  to  the  door,  Sir  Basil  unlocked  it  and,  as  he 
showed  the  now  thoroughly-mystified  American  out, 
whispered,  “  Now,  mind,  you  mustn’t  tell  anyone  I 
told  you.  Just  pack  up  and  get  away  quietly.” 

When  the  police  inquired  at  the  Carlton  Hotel 
the  same  afternoon  as  to  what  had  become  of  our 
troublesome  visitor  they  were  told  he  had  already 
left  for  America ! 

****** 

Of  all  the  curious  specimens  of  humanity  which 
ever  found  their  way  to  Scotland  Yard  the  “  Blue  Man  ” 
could  surely  lay  claim  to  be  the  most  unique. 

Somewhere  about  the  middle  of  1915  the  Postal 
Censorship  detained  several  letters  written  to  circus 
proprietors  in  America,  asking  that  the  writer,  who 
had  achieved  a  certain  amount  of  fame  in  freak  shows 
in  England  as  a  “  Blue  Man,”  might  be  given  an 
engagement. 

From  previous  experience  we  had  come  to  suspect 
all  letters  which  dealt  with  a  circus,  owing  to  there 
being  so  many  Germans  in  the  business,  so  a  letter 
was  sent  to  the  writer  asking  that  he  would  be  good 
enough  to  call  at  Scotland  Yard  to  see  the  Assistant 
Commissioner. 

He  arrived  at  a  time  when  Sir  Basil  Thomson 
was  dictating  letters  to  his  secretary,  a  rather  nervous 
young  lady,  not  thoroughly  hardened  to  the  routine 
of  a  police  headquarters.  However,  the  caller  was 
asked  to  seat  himself  in  a  chair,  alongside  that  in 
which  Sir  Basil’s  secretary  was  sitting. 

Nothing  happened  for  a  minute  or  two.  Sir  Basil 
continued  to  dictate,  and  the  young  lady  as  indus- 


186 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

triously  continued  to  take  it  all  down.  In  a  brief 
pause  the  lady  chanced  to  look  round.  “  Good 
gracious,”  she  shrieked,  “  what  is  that  ?  ” 

There  was  good  reason  for  her  astonishment.  Sitting 
next  her  was  a  man  with  a  perfectly  blue  face  and  a 
vivid  red  moustache,  looking,  if  anything,  rather 
abashed.  “  Oh,  it’s  all  right,  Miss,”  answered  the 
object  of  the  lady’s  astonishment.  “  I’m  always 
like  this.” 

As  the  subsequent  conversation  proved,  it  was 
"  all  right.”  The  owner  of  the  blue  face  had  served 
in  a  Hussar  regiment  in  the  early  days  of  the  war, 
and  had  contracted  a  disease  which  had  literally 
turned  his  skin  quite  blue.  Discharged  from  the 
army  and  finding  no  one  anxious  to  employ  him,  he 
had  taken  to  exhibiting  himself  at  cheap  shows  around 
the  country.  Sighing  for  fresh  worlds  to  conquer, 
the  idea  had  come  to  him  to  offer  himself  to  the  great 
home  of  the  freak,  America.  So,  after  thanking  him 
for  calling,  we  allowed  the  “  Blue  Man  ”  to  depart, 
telling  him  that  if  he  could  get  some  enterprising 
American  showman  to  take  him  up  we  had  no  objec¬ 
tion  to  his  leaving  the  country. 


CHAPTER  XI 


The  astonishing  case  of  Mdlle.  Eva  de  Bournonville — Indian 
revolutionary  plots — Miss  Brunner  and  her  sister — Mrs. 
Gertrud  Evelin,  the  German  postwoman — Baron  Louis  von 
Horst  and  Lilian  Scott  Troy. 

If  I  were  narrating  a  purely  fictitious  account  of  the 
German  spy  system  as  we  knew  it  in  this  country, 
it  would  be  possible  to  weave  into  the  story  many 
beautiful  women  who  spied  for  the  love  of  adventure, 
with  tales  of  madly-infatuated  naval  and  military 
officers  saved  from  betraying  their  country  by  one  of 
those  dramatic  surprises  only  possible  on  the  boards 
of  a  theatre.  Unfortunately,  the  Germans  did  not 
appear  to  place  much  reliance  on  female  spies,  possibly 
owing  to  the  fact  that  their  espionage  organization 
directed  against  England  was  controlled  by  a  woman, 
known  as  the  Frau  Doctor  Elizabeth. 

Although  during  the  course  of  the  war  we  placed 
numberless  women  under  detention  for  one  cause  or 
another,  only  three  were  actually  brought  to  trial. 
One  was  Mrs.  Lizzie  Wertheim,  whose  case  was  con¬ 
nected  with  that  of  Breeckow  ;  another  was  that  of  a 
Mrs.  Smith,  the  wife  of  a  naturalized  British  subject, 
who  wrote  to  an  address  in  Sweden  her  impressions  of 
the  moral  of  the  nation  in  terms  which  would  have 
such  a  depressing  effect  on  the  enemy  that  she  re¬ 
ceived  a  very  light  sentence ;  the  other — and  most 
important  of  all — was  Mdlle.  Eva  de  Bournonville. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  whatever  induced  this  woman 

187 


188 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

to  become  a  German  spy,  except  the  want  of  money. 
A  Swede,  of  French  extraction,  she  had  been  exceed¬ 
ingly  well  educated,  and  spoke  six  or  seven  languages 
with  ease.  One  could  not  help  feeling  sorry  for  her : 
her  life  had  been  a  succession  of  ups  and  downs,  a 
governess  in  one  country,  an  actress  in  another,  with 
occasional  lapses  into  common  clerical  work  and 
secretaryship.  In  the  course  of  her  travels  through 
Europe  she  appears  to  have  been  employed  at  many 
Legations  and  Embassies,  where  doubtless  her  know¬ 
ledge  of  languages  readily  ensured  her  obtaining  em¬ 
ployment.  There  is  no  doubt  she  had  been  gently 
born ;  her  whole  bearing  forbade  any  suggestion  of 
commonness. 

There  can  be  no  question,  however,  that  she  came 
into  the  business  with  open  eyes.  Prior  to  leaving 
Bergen  she  seems  to  have  carefully  mapped  out  a 
plan  of  campaign  which  deserved  to  succeed,  but  for 
one  thing — that  of  the  problem  of  getting  her  informa¬ 
tion  out  of  the  country.  The  preliminary  step  was 
to  write  to  a  Scottish  woman  living  in  Dumbartonshire, 
whose  acquaintance  had  been  made  on  the  occasion 
of  a  trip  to  Sweden.  Mdlle.  de  Bournonville  wrote  that 
she  was  coming  to  England  for  the  sake  of  her  health, 
and  would  be  pleased  to  see  her  old  friend. 

Mademoiselle  duly  came  to  England,  or  Scotland,  to 
be  precise,  on  September  22nd,  1915,  and  evoked  no 
suspicion  with  the  Swedish  passport  in  her  possession. 
Making  her  way  to  London,  she  put  up  at  a  cheap 
hotel  in  Bloomsbury,  and  while  there  wrote  to  her 
friend  in  Dumbartonshire,  saying  that  she  had  arrived, 
and  that,  after  a  good  rest,  intended  to  try  and  obtain 
lightTemployment.  She  suggested  that  she  might 
assist  us  by  entering  the  Postal  Censorship,  and  asked 


Cherchez  la  Femme 


189 


that  her  acquaintance  should  recommend  her  to  a  few 
people  in  London. 

No  thought  would  appear  to  have  entered  the  head 
of  the  lady  in  Scotland  that  Mdlle.  de  Bournonville 
was  other  than  that  which  she  represented  herself 
to  be.  She  readily  gave  her  the  names  of  some  friends 
in  Hackney  Downs,  and  told  her  to  call  upon  them. 
Some  few  days  later  Mademoiselle  did  pay  a  visit  to 
Hackney  Downs,  but  the  people  were  out,  so  Made¬ 
moiselle  left  a  card,  with  her  address  as  care  of  the 
Danish  Legation,  Pont  Street,  W.  That  alone  would 
allay  any  suspicion,  so  what  more  natural  than  that 
she  should  be  invited  to  call  on  the  people  living  in 
the  little  suburban  villa  in  the  north-east  of  London. 
She  was  without  any  friends  in  London,  and  was  only 
too  thankful  to  break  the  monotony  of  life  in  a 
Bloomsbury  hotel.  The  head  of  the  family  was  only  a 
commercial  traveller,  it  is  true,  but  he  would  serve 
the  purpose  of  being  someone  to  whom  she  could 
refer  when  she  applied  for  employment  in  the  Censor¬ 
ship. 

But  the  Swedish  lady,  with  the  refined  appearance, 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  too  cordially  regarded  in 
the  little  house  at  Hackney.  After  her  preliminary 
visit  she  was  given  a  half-hearted  invitation  to  call 
again.  Most  people  would  have  accepted  the  offer 
at  its  true  value  ;  not  so  Mdlle.  de  Bournonville.  An 
Englishman’s  reference  was  essential  to  her.  So  she 
called  several  times  after,  and  went  out  walking  with 
the  family. 

Zeppelin  raids  were  plentiful  enough  in  those  days, 
and  Mademoiselle  excited  not  a  little  suspicion  in 
the  breast  of  the  commercial  traveller  by  the  ques¬ 
tions  she  asked  concerning  the  anti-aircraft  defences. 


190 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

“  Where  is  the  nearest  gun  ?  ”  she  asked  one  Sunday. 
"  Can  I  go  and  see  it  ?  ” 

“  No,  I  am  afraid  you  can’t,”  was  the  reply ; 
“  nobody  is  permitted  to  go  near  it.” 

There  was  no  appeasing  the  lady’s  curiosity,  how¬ 
ever.  She  wanted  to  know  how  many  such 
guns  there  were  in  London,  where  they  were 
situated,  what  was  their  calibre,  and  what  elevation 
they  could  attain.  Once,  when  taken  to  Finsbury 
Park  with  the  family,  she  said :  "  Oh !  so  this  is 
Finsbury  Park.  Where  are  the  Zeppelin  guns  situ¬ 
ated  here !  ” 

It  all  made  the  respectable  commercial  traveller 
very  uncomfortable,  and  when  they  parted  from 
Mdlle.  de  Bournonville  that  night  nothing  was  said 
concerning  her  coming  to  see  them  again.  It  is  cer¬ 
tain  that  nobody  entertained  the  idea  that  Mademoiselle 
was  a  German  spy.  Had  she  not  been  recommended 
to  them  by  a  very  good  friend  ?  During  one  of  her 
numerous  calls  she  told  the  commercial  traveller  that 
she  was  trying  to  enter  the  Postal  Censorship,  and 
asked  if  she  might  give  his  name  in  case  of  inquiries. 
Here  the  wife  intervened. 

“  Oh  !  I  don’t  think  we  could  do  that,  Mademoi¬ 
selle,”  she  said.  “  You  see,  they  are  most  particular, 
and  if  anything  went  wrong  we  should  get  into  serious 
trouble.” 

Clearly,  the  little  house  in  Hackney  Downs  was  a 
waste  of  time,  and  Mademoiselle  did  not  persevere  in 
the  face  of  the  openly-expressed  discomfort  of  her 
unwilling  hosts.  “  The  Germans  know  everything 
that  goes  on  here ;  you  cannot  hide  anything  from 
them,”  she  once  told  them.  Perhaps  the  phlegmatic 
English  family  wondered  how  it  was  Mademoiselle 


A  Daring  Attempt  191 

knew  so  much  about  Germany,  but  they  said  nothing, 
as  is  the  English  way. 

She  had  already  applied  to  be  taken  into  the  Postal 
Censorship,  and,  when  interviewed  by  the  lady  who 
engaged  the  female  staff,  told  a  circumstantial  story 
of  her  father  having  been  a  General  in  the  Danish 
Army.  Her  grandfather,  so  she  alleged,  had  been 
music  teacher  many  years  ago  to  Queen  Alexandra, 
while  at  the  present  time  an  aunt  was  engaged  in  the 
same  capacity  with  the  Danish  Royal  Family.  She 
accounted  for  the  Danish  connections  by  saying  that, 
although  her  family  was  Swedish,  practically  all  their 
lives  were  spent  in  Denmark.  The  story  did  not 
sound  particularly  convincing,  and  although  Mademoi¬ 
selle’s  linguistic  accomplishments  were  sans  reproche, 
it  was  decided  not  to  employ  her.  She  could  not 
produce  English  references  worth  anything,  and  the 
censorship  was  too  important  to  permit  of  unknown 
foreign  women  being  allowed  to  touch  correspondence. 

During  all  these  weeks  Mademoiselle  had  been 
moving  about  considerably.  She  had  left  Bloomsbury 
after  a  few  days’  stay,  and  gone  to  live  in  lodgings  in 
South  Kensington.  From  there  she  migrated  to  a 
Ladies’  Club  in  the  West  End,  where  in  conversation 
with  a  girl  who  acted  as  clerk  the  talk  one  day  turned 
on  spies. 

“  Why,”  said  Mademoiselle,  “  for  all  you  know  I 
might  be  a  German  spy.” 

“Yes,”  the  girl  laughed. 

Apparently  to  soothe  any  lingering  suspicion  which 
might  have  been  aroused  by  her  remark,  Mademoiselle 
added  :  “  But  if  I  were  a  spy,  should  I  have  refer¬ 
ences  from  the  Danish  Legation  and  such  ?  ” 

“  I  am  sure  I  don’t  know,”  was  the  reply.  “  If  I 


192 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

were  a  spy  I  should  want  references  that  would  take 
me  to  Heaven.” 

Prophetic  words,  and  they  appear  to  have  struck  a 
responsive  chord  in  the  breast  of  the  Swedish  woman, 
for  she  said  eagerly  :  “  If  you  think  like  that,  why  do 
you  not  become  a  spy  ?  ” 

But  the  girl  laughed  again,  and  Mademoiselle  did  not 
pursue  the  matter  further. 

It  was  a  fact,  surprising  as  it  may  seem,  that  Mdlle. 
de  Bournonville  had  some  sort  of  connection  with  the 
Danish  Legation.  Money  was  transmitted  to  her 
through  the  Legation,  as  is  often  done  with  travelling 
foreigners  with  no  particular  address.  There  was 
certainly  no  reason  to  suspect  the  lady.  She  was  of 
good  address,  and  her  family  was  quite  well  known  in 
Denmark.  What  the  Legation  did  not  know  was  that 
the  money  received  for  her  was  payment  for  acting 
as  a  German  spy.  About  the  time  of  the  conversa¬ 
tion  recorded  Mademoiselle  appears  to  have  run  short 
of  money ;  she  borrowed  ten  shillings  from  the  girl 
clerk,  with  a  promise  of  repayment  when  her  remit¬ 
tance  should  arrive  from  the  Danish  Legation. 

After  leaving  the  Ladies’  Club,  Mademoiselle  re¬ 
turned  to  Bloomsbury,  where  she  put  up  at  a  private 
hotel  in  Upper  Bedford  Place,  much  frequented  by 
Army  officers  on  leave.  There  she  cultivated  the 
acquaintance  of  young  subalterns,  and  induced  them 
to  take  her  out  for  walks.  Always  did  the  conversa¬ 
tion  turn  to  matters  military. 

“  Where  are  Wellington  Barracks  ?  ”  she  would  ask. 
“  How  many  troops  are  stationed  there  ?  How  many 
troops  are  there  at  Tid worth  ?  ” 

But  even  the  most  callow  of  second  lieutenants 
could  not  help  feeling  that  this  was  dangerous  talk, 


193 


Brought  to  Book 

and  the  information  Mademoiselle  obtained  was  very 
slight.  What  little  she  did  get,  however,  was  being 
transmitted  to  an  address  in  Sweden,  although, 
actually  speaking,  it  never  got  past  the  Counter- 
Espionage  section. 

For  some  weeks  previous  Mdlle.  de  Bournonville  had 
been  known  to  be  a  dangerous  German  spy.  All  her  cor¬ 
respondence,  addressed  to  a  suspect,  had  been  opened, 
and  many  of  the  letters  found  to  contain  messages 
written  in  invisible  ink.  The  authorities  had  forborne 
to  arrest  her  in  order  that  the  chain  of  evidence  might 
be  complete. 

On  November  15th,  1915,  the  time  was  adjudged 
ripe  to  put  an  end  to  her  activities.  For  that  purpose 
two  Scotland  Yard  detectives  proceeded  to  the  hotel 
in  Upper  Bedford  Place  and  asked  for  Mdlle.  Eva  de 
Bournonville.  They  were  conducted  to  her  room, 
where  the  officer  in  charge  said  : 

“  I  have  instructions  to  detain  you  on  a  charge  of 
espionage.” 

“  Me  ?  ”  answered  the  spy,  with  blanched  face. 
“  Why,  I  am  a  Swede,  born  in  Denmark.  I  came  here 
little  more  than  a  month  ago.” 

“  Nevertheless,  you  must  come  with  me,”  said 
the  detective.  “  Put  your  things  on  at  once, 
please.” 

“  What  did  you  say  I  am  charged  with  ?  ”  asked  the 
woman  curiously,  as  she  pinned  on  her  hat. 

“  You  are  charged  with  being  a  German  spy,”  was 
the  reply. 

“  I  see.  Who  is  accusing  me  of  spying  ?  ” 

“  That  I  cannot  tell  you,”  was  the  answer. 

As  she  was  going  out  of  the  room  she  again  said  to 
the  detective  :  “  What  did  you  say  I  am  charged 

13 


194  German  Spies  at  Bay 

with  ?  ”  And  when  told  espionage  said  :  “  I  do  not 
see  what  news  I  could  get.” 

However,  there  was  a  different  story  to  be  told  at 
Scotland  Yard  the  following  day.  A  night  in  the 
cells  at  a  police  station  appears  to  have  rapidly 
evaporated  whatever  courage  the  unfortunate  woman 
may  have  possessed.  When  taken  across  for  interro¬ 
gation  she  attempted  to  bluff,  until  such  time  as  her 
letters  to  Sweden,  with  the  invisible  ink  developed, 
were  produced.  “  How  did  you  find  out  ?  ”  she  asked 
Sir  Basil  Thomson. 

When  informed  that  she  had  been  communicating 
with  an  address  known  to  be  used  by  the  German 
Secret  Service,  she  suddenly  asked  that  she  might  speak 
to  Sir  Basil  alone.  So  the  room  was  cleared. 

“  It  seems  funny  to  you,”  she  said,  “  but  I  really 
want  to  work  for  you,  and  not  for  the  Germans.  I  like 
the  Belgians  very  much  and  also  the  English  people, 
but  I  am  not  at  all  fond  of  the  Germans.  I  hate  the 
Germans,  and  have  not  forgotten ’64”  (the  annexation 
of  Schleswig-Holstein).  “  I  thought  I  would  try  and 
make  the  Germans  believe  I  was  working  for  them  and 
then  offer  my  services.  I  wanted  a  little  adventure, 
and  I  thought  it  would  be  all  right.” 

It  was  not  the  first  time  Sir  Basil  Thomson  had 
heard  such  a  story,  so  he  smiled  in  non-committal 
fashion  and  said  we  would  see  about  that.  Mademoi¬ 
selle  made  no  objection  to  giving  particulars  of  the 
entire  conspiracy  which  resulted  in  her  coming  to 
England.  Apparently  the  German  Military  Attache 
in  Sweden,  in  conjunction  with  an  agent  of  the  Secret 
Service,  had  induced  the  wretched  woman  to  imperil 
her  life,  the  remuneration  being  thirty  pounds  a  month. 
Actually,  a  cheque  for  this  amount  was  found  in  her 


Lifelong  Imprisonment  195 

possession  at  the  time  she  was  arrested.  She  asked 
that  she  might  keep  it.  “  I  don’t  see  why  I  should 
not  have  it,”  she  said,  but  the  detective  was  adamant. 
“  We  will  look  after  it  for  you,”  he  said.  “  If  you  are 
innocent  you  will  get  it  back.” 

The  accused  woman  was  tried  by  Mr.  Justice 
Darling  at  the  Old  Bailey  on  January  12th,  1916,  and 
although,  in  view  of  her  confession,  there  was  prac¬ 
tically  no  defence,  counsel  was  briefed  for  the  defence. 
She  was  found  guilty  and  sentenced  to  death  by  hang¬ 
ing.  Following  our  principle  of  not  exacting  the 
supreme  penalty  from  a  woman,  the  sentence  was 
subsequently  commuted  to  penal  servitude  for  life. 
She  was  sent  to  Aylesbury  Convict  Prison,  where  for 
company  she  found  Mrs.  Wertheim,  undergoing  ten 
years’  imprisonment.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that 
some  months  afterwards  an  application  on  her  behalf 
was  put  forward  to  permit  of  her  talking  with  Mrs 
Wertheim  occasionally,  and  this  was  granted. 

One  of  the  most  pathetic  circumstances  of  this  sad 
case  of  corruption  was  the  letter  written  by  de 
Bournonville  asking,  in  excellent  English,  that  part 
of  her  extensive  wardrobe,  together  with  some  articles 
of  manicure,  might  be  sent  to  her  in  prison  The 
letter  concluded  : 

"  Please  kindly  hang  up  my  evening  dresses  and 
cover  them  well.” 

It  will  be  many  a  long  day  before  Eva  de  Bournon¬ 
ville  wears  an  evening  dress  again. 

The  affaire  de  Bournonville  revealed  one  very  inter¬ 
esting  phase  of  the  enemy’s  intelligence  methods 
Among  the  addresses  to  which  she  was  writing  wa«; 

13* 


196  German  Spies  at  Bay 

that  of  an  alleged  Belgian  officer,  who  she  said  was 
a  prisoner  in  Germany.  But  in  the  Belgian  Army  List 
this  officer’s  name  was  not  to  be  found,  and  the  Belgian 
War  Office  did  not  know  of  him.  The  conclusion  we 
arrived  at  was  that  it  was  another  ingenious  way  of 
getting  messages  through  in  invisible  ink,  for  who 
would  think  of  applying  a  chemical  test  to  a  letter 
addressed  to  a  prisoner  of  war  ? 

****** 

If  the  Germans  did  not  actually  employ  many 
women  as  spies  in  this  country,  they  appeared  to  have 
little  or  no  compunction  in  utilizing  them  for  other 
tasks  of  a  nature  almost  as  dangerous. 

Towards  the  end  of  1915  information  came  into 
our  possession  that  a  great  plot  to  create  a  revolution 
in  India  was  being  fomented  in  Switzerland  by  German 
agents,  acting  in  conjunction  with  a  party  of  Indians, 
prominent  among  whom  was  a  native  known  as 
Sagar  Chand.  It  is  not  possible  to  go  into  full  details 
of  this  dangerous  conspiracy,  although  there  is  no 
harm  in  mentioning  that  arrangements  had  been 
made  to  purchase  170,000  rifles  in  the  United  States 
and  have  them  shipped  to  the  Dutch  East  Indies, 
from  where  they  would  gradually  be  transhipped  to 
different  ports  of  India. 

Forewarned  is  forearmed.  We  were  able  to  obtain 
particulars  of  people  in  England  who  were  involved, 
and  arrested  them  all,  placing  them  out  of  harm’s  way 
for  the  duration  of  the  war.  Inculpated  in  the  affair 
was  a  Swiss  woman,  Meta  Brunner,  living  in  London, 
and  known  by  us  to  be  in  communication  with  many 
of  the  Indians  and  Germans  who  were  engineering  the 


Revolutionary  Plots  197 

revolution.  Miss  Brunner  was  placed  under  arrest 
and  after  being  interrogated,  was  sent  to  Aylesbury 
Convict  Prison  for  the  duration  of  the  war  ;  she  was 
much  too  dangerous  a  person  to  be  allowed  any 
semblance  of  liberty. 

That  was  only  the  beginning  of  our  troubles.  News 
of  her  detention  had,  of  course,  been  sent  to  her 
family  in  Switzerland,  and  they  appear  to  have  been 
influential  enough  to  induce  the  Swiss  Government 
to  take  up  the  case.  That  did  not  bring  about  Miss 
Brunner’s  release,  however,  and  shortly  afterwards 
the  family  sent  us  another  emissary  in  the  form  of 
Sister  Mary.  Had  we  suspected  this  young  lady’s 
mission,  it  is  certain  we  should  never  have  permitted 
her  to  land.  But  she  came  to  London  all  right,  and 
began  a  bombardment  of  every  official  who  might  be 
persuaded  to  take  up  the  case  of  Sister  Meta.  The 
Swiss  Minister  and  Consuls,  our  own  Home  Secretary 
and  the  Assistant  Commissioner  of  Police  were  all 
inundated  with  letters  alleging  that  the  imprisoned 
girl  had  done  nothing  to  justify  her  detention  in  gaol. 
Mary  Brunner  was  permitted  to  see  her  sister  in  prison, 
but,  beyond  sharply  upbraiding  her  for  getting  into 
such  trouble,  and  promising  that  she  would  continue 
worrying  the  officials,  she  could  tell  her  sister  nothing 
of  great  comfort. 

Sister  Mary  more  than  justified  her  intention  of 
pestering  the  life  out  of  people  responsible  for  Meta’s 
incarceration,  so  much  so  that  in  one  interview  with 
the  Assistant  Commissioner  of  Police  she  was  told 
that  one  fact  appeared  not  to  have  been  comprehended 
by  her,  namely,  that  we  had  a  perfect  right  to  get  rid 
of  anyone  with  whom  we  were  not  satisfied.  That 
nonplussed  the  lady  temporarily,  but  she  returned  to 


198 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

the  attack  later,  and  made  such  a  nuisance  of  herself 
that  we  informed  her  that  she  would  be  deported 
unless  her  persistent  and  vain  applications  immediately 
ceased.  “  But  where  shall  I  go  ?  ”  asked  Sister  Mary. 
“  I  have  come  to  London  to  study  dramatic  art.” 
We  told  her  that  we  did  not  mind  where  she  went, 
so  long  as  she  went  out  of  England. 

Deportation  was  eventually  arranged,  but  at  the 
last  moment  more  sober  counsels  were  brought  to  bear 
on  the  lady,  and,  in  return  for  a  humble  promise  not 
to  interfere  further.  Sister  Mary  was  permitted  to 
remain.  A  bargain  was  struck.  She  was  to  keep 
Scotland  Yard  notified  of  any  change  of  address,  and 
as  a  quid  pro  quo  was  to  be  allowed  to  visit  her  sister 
at  Aylesbury  occasionally.  And  that  was  the  end 
of  the  matter.  Meta  Brunner  remained  in  prison  until 
the  end  of  the  war,  and  was  then  deported  to  Switzer¬ 
land,  with  instructions  not  to  show  her  face  in  England 
again. 


****** 

The  Germans  utilized  all  kinds  of  women  for  their 
nefarious  work.  Our  exceedingly  effective  postal 
and  cable  censorship  (the  latter  described  by  the  Great 
General  Staff  in  Berlin  as  “  devilish  ”)  had  from  the 
early  days  of  the  war  reduced  the  Hun  to  any  method 
which  would  enable  him  to  get  messages  to  and  from 
America. 

In  April,  1916,  we  came  across  a  new  one — the 
postwoman.  The  lady,  who  was  travelling  with  her 
child,  proved  to  be  a  Mrs.  Gertrude  Evelin,  the  wife 
of  a  respectable  tradesman  in  California,  who  was 
greatly  distressed  when  the  news  of  his  wife’s  com¬ 
plicity  in  German  plots  was  communicated  to  him. 


The  Postwoman 


199 


Mrs.  Evelin’s  connection  with  the  enemy  was  both 
instructive  and  interesting.  A  German-born  woman, 
she  had  been  employed  in  the  San  Francisco  offices 
of  the  Hamburg-Amerika  Steamship  Company,  and 
appears  to  have  been  tempted  by  the  promise  of 
liberal  remuneration  to  carry  messages  to  Germany. 
Her  story  that  she  was  coming  home  to  the  Fatherland 
for  a  holiday  was  too  weak  altogether,  for,  owing  to 
an  intercepted  wireless  message,  we  learnt  that  her 
passage  money  was  being  paid  by  the  Hamburg- 
Amerika  Company.  Furthermore,  the  lady  was 
destitute,  and  when  we  suggested  that  people  never 
undertook  holiday  trips  to  Europe  without  a  little 
money  in  their  pockets  she  replied  :  “  Oh  !  but  I 
shall  have  thirty  pounds  waiting  for  me  when  I  arrive 
at  Hamburg.”  “  Yes,”  we  said,  “  we  know  that ; 
you  are  getting  the  usual  thirty  pounds  a  month  which 
the  Germans  pay  to  their  spies.  We  are  afraid  you 
are  making  a  mistake  that  is  very  common  in  this 
room  :  that  of  imagining  that  we  have  told  you  every¬ 
thing  we  know.” 

There  being  no  question  that  Mrs.  Evelin  was 
exceedingly  dangerous,  she  was  placed  in  Aylesbury 
Prison  for  the  remainder  of  the  war.  Her  boy  child 
was  boarded  out  at  the  expense  of  the  Government, 
but  not  long  afterwards  the  mother  grew  so  trouble¬ 
some  at  being  parted  from  him  that  the  authorities 
consented  to  his  being  sent  to  Aylesbury  to  live,  where 
she  was  permitted  to  see  him  two  or  three  times  a  week. 
Mrs.  Evelin  wrote  many  hysterical  letters  while  in 
prison,  the  general  trend  of  which  was  :  “  I  am  going 
to  commit  suicide  if  you  detain  me  any  longer.” 
However,  we  persuaded  the  lady  not  to  adopt  such 
extreme  measures,  and  kept  her  safely  until  April  nth. 


200  German  Spies  at  Bay 

1919,  when  she  was  repatriated  to  America,  with  the 
parting  intimation  that  the  less  we  saw  of  her  in  the 
future  the  better  we  would  like  her. 

****** 

There  was  an  impression  common  in  this  country 
all  through  the  war  that  the  enemy  received  much 
valuable  assistance  from  wealthy  Germans  who  had 
become  naturalized  here,  and  were  acting  as  master 
spies.  We  never  found  proof  to  justify  such  a  con¬ 
tention.  The  average  Hun,  who,  above  everything 
else,  values  the  creature  comforts  of  life,  was  too  wily 
to  trouble  about  the  Fatherland  ;  he  may  have  been 
approached  to  render  assistance  to  his  country’s 
Secret  Service,  but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  he  would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  such  dangerous  matters. 
Probably  the  only  authenticated  instance  of  a 
naturalized  British  subject  helping  one  of  his  original 
countrymen  was  that  of  Philip  de  Laszlo,  who  was 
called  upon  by  one  Arped  Horn,  an  escaped  Austrian 
officer.  Horn,  who  had  got  away  from  Donington 
Hall,  came  to  London  and  saw  de  Laszlo,  who  gave 
him  the  modest  sum  of  one  pound,  possibly  with  the 
idea  of  getting  rid  of  him. 

But  there  was  one  German  living  in  England  on  the 
outbreak  of  war  who,  if  he  could,  would  undoubtedly 
have  been  a  master  spy.  He  was  the  Baron  Louis 
von  Horst,  a  Prussian  of  the  Prussians.  A  stout, 
red-faced  individual,  with  bull  neck  and  bald  head, 
rotund  paunch,  and  generally  exuding  a  love  of  the 
good  things  of  life,  the  Baron  was  hail-fellow-well- 
met  with  everyone — particularly  those  likely  to  be  of 
use  to  him.  There  would  appear  to  be  little  doubt 
that  he  resided  in  England  for  the  purpose  of  preparing 


The  Prussian  Baron 


201 


the  way  for  the  German  dream  of  conquering  the 
United  Kingdom  ;  all  his  actions  fitted  in  with  that 
supposition.  However,  it  was  found  impossible  to 
catch  him  doing  anything  which  would  enable  us  to 
place  him  on  trial  and  have  him  punished  according 
to  his  misdeeds. 

Von  Horst — the  prefix  was  of  his  own  adoption — 
was  the  son  of  a  small  draper  in  Prussia.  In  his  earlier 
years,  like  so  many  young  Germans,  he  emigrated  to 
America,  where  he  acquired  a  thorough  acquaintance 
with  the  brewing  business.  Exactly  when  he  placed 
himself  at  the  disposal  of  the  German  Secret  Service 
he  would  never  tell,  but  it  must  have  been  during  one 
of  his  frequent  visits  to  his  native  land.  He  married 
the  daughter  of  the  American  Vice-Consul  at  Coburg, 
but  the  marriage  does  not  appear  to  have  turned  out 
happily.  It  was  during  one  of  the  Coburg  trips  that 
he  was  created  a  Baron,  although  the  nature  of  the 
service  he  rendered  his  country  remains  to  this  day 
a  mystery.  Probably  it  was  for  Secret  Service  work 
done  in  America. 

About  1908  von  Horst  came  into  prominence  through 
an  attempt  to  dump  Californian  hops  into  England 
on  a  large  scale.  At  that  time  he  was  the  ostensible 
proprietor  of  a  business  connected  with  the  sale  of 
hops,  having  offices  in  Bermondsey  and  the  City.  He 
certainly  spent  a  great  deal  more  money  than  seemed 
warranted  by  the  size  of  his  business,  and  took  part  in 
many  public  affairs  which  were  no  concern  of  his. 

We  began  to  have  our  suspicion  that  the  Baron  von 
Horst  was  not  the  good  fellow  he  would  have  every¬ 
body  believe  about  the  year  1912,  when  he  was  found 
to  be  constantly  in  the  company  of  a  notorious  female 
agitator  named  Lilian  Scott  Troy.  Miss  Troy,  who  was 


202 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

a  strident-voiced,  rather  handsome  American  woman, 
had  been  living  in  England  for  a  few  years,  earning 
some  sort  of  living  as  a  journalist,  although  it  is  certain 
that  she  never  got  enough  out  of  it  to  justify  the  lavish 
expenditure  of  money  which  she  indulged  in.  During 
the  big  dock  strike  of  that  year  Miss  Troy  was  found 
to  be  supplying  the  strikers’  wives  with  large  sums  of 
money,  posing  as  an  apostle  of  labour,  who  was  only 
anxious  that  the  men  should  fight  the  battle  to  the 
bitter  end.  This  money,  it  was  ascertained,  was 
being  supplied  by  von  Horst,  but  there  was  no  law 
against  assisting  strikers’  families,  and  therefore  we 
could  not  touch  him. 

A  few  months  afterwards  society  was  more  or  less 
convulsed  by  the  frenzied  behaviour  of  women  who 
were  showing  their  fitness  for  the  parliamentary 
franchise  by  burning  down  houses,  breaking  windows 
and  starving  themselves  in  prison.  Again  the  hand  of 
von  Horst  showed  itself  ;  he  was  always  available  for 
the  purpose  of  bailing  out  a  suffragette.  In  the  mind 
of  the  Baron  there  was  always  the  possibility  that  such 
women  would  go  and  commit  some  really  serious 
damage. 

It  was  the  threatened  Ulster  rebellion  in  the  summer 
of  1914  which  gave  the  precious  pair  the  opportunity 
they  were  longing  for.  Immediately  the  famous 
landing  of  arms  took  place  in  Ulster,  von  Horst  and 
Miss  Troy  went  to  the  south  of  Ireland,  where,  it  was 
obvious,  any  organized  resistance  to  the  operations  of 
Sir  Edward  Carson’s  volunteers  was  certain  to  have 
its  genesis.  The  publicly-announced  purpose  of  their 
trip  was  that  of  selecting  a  site  for  the  growing  of 
hops  !  And  in  Ireland,  of  all  places  in  the  world  ! 
However,  the  couple  made  no  secret  of  anything. 


Activities  in  Ireland 


203 


Miss  Troy,  posing  as  a  wealthy  Californian  woman, 
said  she  had  also  come  to  see  Castle  Troy,  the  home  of 
her  ancestors,  which  she  was  about  to  acquire.  Her 
story  went  that  her  progenitors  had  been  evicted  from 
the  castle  nearly  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  now  she,  the 
last  of  her  line,  had  returned  with  a  fortune  to  buy 
back  the  ancestral  mansion.  It  was  quite  a  touching 
little  incident,  and  made  much  appeal  to  the  romantic 
Irish.  Baron  von  Horst  was  at  that  time  posing  as 
her  secretary. 

On  the  occasion  of  that  visit  von  Horst  presented  a 
Mauser  rifle  to  some  local  volunteers  at  a  small  village 
called  Ballysimon,  and  made  a  fiery  speech  in  which, 
with  guttural  eloquence,  he  trusted  that  they  would 
make  good  use  of  it  in  the  coming  fight  for  freedom. 
That  was  not  the  only  time  the  Baron  had  been  mixed 
up  in  a  small  arms  transaction.  Only  two  months 
previous  to  the  war  he  called  on  a  London  dealer  and 
asked  for  prices  of  Mausers  in  lots  of  twenty  and  fifty, 
adding  that  he  wanted  them,  together  with  bayonets, 
for  the  purpose  of  drilling  volunteers  in  Ireland. 

But  the  impudence  of  this  Prussian  baron  only  came 
to  be  fully  revealed  on  the  outbreak  of  the  war.  Early 
in  September,  1914,  he  and  Miss  Troy  had  the  ineffable 
impertinence  to  call  at  the  Home  Office  and  suggest 
that  they  should  be  entrusted  with  the  formation  of  a 
society  to  assist  distressed  Germans  in  this  country, 
and,  furthermore,  that  they  should  be  permitted  to 
make  a  public  appeal  for  funds.  That  was  the  last 
straw  to  break  the  camel’s  back.  Instead  of  giving 
the  Baron  any  such  authority  it  was  decided  to  in¬ 
terrogate  him  as  to  his  record  during  the  past  few  years. 
And  what  a  change  it  produced  !  Gone  was  the  bluster¬ 
ing  joviality,  gone  the  wonderful  conceit  of  himself. 


204 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Cringingly  and  apologetically  did  he  seek  to  justify 
his  actions,  protesting  that  all  his  interests  were  centred 
in  England’s  welfare,  and  that  he  was  anxious  only  for 
the  public  good.  But  we  put  our  own  version  on  his 
doings.  The  Baron,  red  in  the  face  with  indignation, 
went  into  an  internment  camp,  where  he  greatly 
exasperated  his  less  fortunate  countrymen  by  the 
truculence  of  his  manners.  From  time  to  time  he 
made  frantic  efforts  to  obtain  release  on  the  grounds 
of  health,  interspersed  with  many  visits  from  Miss 
Troy,  who  also  interviewed  every  possible  official  on 
his  behalf.  The  lady  even  sent  the  commandant  of 
the  internment  camp  a  present  of  a  case  of  champagne, 
and  when  it  was  returned  to  her  with  a  sharp  note 
her  fury  knew  no  bounds.  She  forced  her  presence 
upon  anyone  likely  to  have  any  influence  in  the  matter, 
and  to  every  one  of  these  persons  made  the  wildest 
charges  of  corruption  against  all  and  sundry,  from  the 
commandant  of  the  camp  up  to  the  Assistant  Com¬ 
missioner  of  Police.  But  it  did  not  obtain  the  fat 
Baron’s  release  ;  rather  did  it  have  the  opposite  effect. 

Prior  to  his  internment  von  Horst,  in  conjunction 
with  Miss  Troy,  had  purchased  the  “  Orpheum  ” 
Kinema  at  Croydon,  which  became  notorious  as  a 
meeting-place  for  would-be  revolutionaries  and  dis¬ 
gruntled  policemen.  Proceedings  were  taken  with 
the  purpose  of  closing  down  the  place,  as  being  the 
property  of  an  enemy  subject,  and  while  the  litigation 
was  going  on  the  armistice  came.  Von  Horst  was 
deported  to  Germany,  and  left  in  an  atmosphere  of 
what  could  hardly  be  called  goodwill. 

Shortly  afterwards  the  affairs  of  the  Croydon  picture 
theatre  were  terminated,  and  Miss  Troy  was  bundled 
out  of  the  country  whose  hospitality  she  had  abused 


Back  to  the  Fatherland 


205 


so  shamefully.  Her  trip  across  the  Atlantic  was  but 
the  calm  before  the  storm.  No  sooner  had  she  arrived 
in  America  than  she  deluged  every  newspaper  in  New 
York  with  an  account  of  her  wrongs,  the  corruption  of 
British  officialdom,  the  American  nationality  of  von 
Horst,  her  own  shameful  treatment,  and  Heaven  knows 
what  else.  The  wrongs  of  Ireland  she  exploited  to  the 
full,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  Sinn  Fein  element  in  the 
country,  and  when  she  had  exhausted  even  the  patience 
of  the  pro-German  Press  in  New  York  she  departed 
in  a  blaze  of  glory  for  California,  where  presumably 
the  Baron  had  arranged  for  her  to  live  on  one  of  his 
hop-growing  estates. 

It  is  doubtful  whether  von  Horst  could  ever  have 
been  convicted  of  espionage.  Not  long  after  his  return 
to  Germany  we  received  accounts  of  his  boasting  in 
the  Press  what  useful  work  he  might  have  accom¬ 
plished  for  the  Fatherland  had  we  allowed  him  to  remain 
at  liberty  for  a  few  months  longer,  so  it  would  seem 
that  he  never  had  any  actual  connection  with  the 
German  spy  organization.  Had  he  done  so  it  is  safe 
to  say  that  he  would  not  now  be  in  Germany. 

%  sic  s|e  sj:  ijc 

The  wild  stories  of  international  financiers  of  German 
origin  being  the  bankers  of  the  German  spy  system 
in  this  country  never  had  any  substance  in  fact ;  these 
people  were  only  too  ready  to  denounce  any  attempt 
to  make  them  the  tool  of  a  Secret  Service.  Rather 
did  they  go  to  the  other  extreme,  by  open  con¬ 
demnation  of  German  atrocities  and  by  liberal  sub¬ 
scription  to  war  funds  seek  to  divert  the  open  suspicion 
and  frequent  public  demand  that  they  should  be  placed 
in  confinement  for  the  duration  of  the  war. 


CHAPTER  XII 


The  spy  who  sought  sanctuary — Adolfo  Guerrero,  a  spy  unable 
to  speak  English,  and  Raymonde  Amondarain — a  Danish 
suspect — Axel  Grebst 

The  total  indifference  which  the  German  Government 
displayed  towards  the  rights  of  non-belligerent  nations 
makes  it  extremely  difficult  for  me  to  piece  together 
anything  like  a  clear  idea  of  the  organization  of  their 
Secret  Service. 

From  the  commencement  of  the  war  enemy  agents 
of  almost  every  nationality  had  come  our  way.  The 
exceptions  had  been  Norwegians,  Danes  and  Spaniards. 
In  the  case  of  the  first  two  the  explanation  was  simple 
enough  ;  both  Norway  and  Denmark  were  sympathetic 
to  our  cause  and  gave  but  short  shrift  to  any  German 
spy  system  which  might  be  established  in  any  of  their 
cities.  But  from  almost  every  other  quarter  of  the 
Western  Hemisphere  neutrals  had  come  to  England 
for  purposes  of  espionage,  and  it  was  a  matter  of  the 
greatest  trouble  to  form  anything  approaching  an  in¬ 
telligent  perception  of  what  the  German  methods 
actually  were. 

There  was  a  tremendous  organization  in  America, 
and  from  time  to  time  we  experienced  specimens  of 
their  work.  Closely  in  touch  with  America  was  a  gang 
of  spies  in  Holland  and  Belgium.  It  was  in  the  latter 
country,  Antwerp,  to  be  exact,  where  most  of  the 
espionage  in  Western  Europe  was  engineered,  but 

206 


A  Humorous  Episode  207 

Rotterdam,  being  a  neutral  port,  and  maintaining  sea¬ 
borne  traffic,  was  the  place  from  which  spies  travelled 
to  and  fro.  In  a  minor  degree  The  Hague  and  Amster¬ 
dam  were  also  utilized,  but  it  was  Rotterdam  where 
the  German  agents  received  their  final  instructions. 
And  almost  invariably  it  was  Rotterdam  which  paid 
them. 

I  have  already  mentioned  that  Barcelona,  in  Spain, 
was  a  flourishing  centre  for  German  espionage  in  France, 
although  up  to  the  end  of  1915  the  enemy  had  not 
attempted  to  send  anyone  from  there  to  England.  We 
had,  of  course,  captured  Matahari  on  board  a  steamer 
bound  from  Holland  to  Spain,  and  later  we  caught 
Conrad  Leyter,  on  his  way  to  Spain  via  Buenos  Aires. 

In  the  early  part  of  January,  1916,  information  was 
sent  to  us  that  on  board  the  S.S.  Gelria,  bound  from 
Holland  to  Spain,  was  a  suspected  German  spy.  The 
Boarding  Officer  accordingly  made  a  minute  inspection 
of  the  passengers,  and  as  a  result  brought  ashore  to 
Ramsgate  a  little  Spaniard  who  called  himself  Carlos 
Kuhn  de  la  Escosura. 

Mightily  indignant,  Escosura  protested  that  he  knew 
nothing  whatever  of  the  German  Secret  Service  ;  he 
alleged  that  he  was  a  traveller  in  films,  a  story  which 
he  backed  up  by  producing  a  few  reels  of  the  maudlin 
love  dramas  so  popular  on  the  Continent.  On  investi¬ 
gation  these  proved  to  be  quite  innocent  of  hidden 
communications,  so  we  next  asked  Escosura  how  he 
could  account  for  the  possession  of  his  passport,  which 
was  fraudulent.  That  rather  stumped  the  dark¬ 
haired  Spaniard,  and  he  pitched  us  a  wonderful  story 
of  how  he  had  gone  to  the  German  Consulate  in  Rotter¬ 
dam,  presided  over  by  our  old  acquaintance  Gneist, 
to  get  a  passport,  to  enable  him  to  travel  in  Germany 


208 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

to  buy  films.  But  outside  the  Consulate  he  came 
across  a  man  who  was  selling  passports,  all  ready  to 
embark  with.  Thinking  to  save  himself  trouble,  he 
struck  a  bargain  with  this  enterprising  merchant,  and 
left  Rotterdam,  ignorant  of  having  contravened  any 
regulation  ! 

It  was  a  terribly  weak  story,  and  we  suggested  that 
if,  for  a  change,  he  would  tell  us  the  truth  it  might  be 
better  for  him.  Escosura  stuck  to  his  guns,  probably 
for  want  of  something  better,  so  we  put  him  in  prison 
and  sent  an  officer  to  Spain  to  make  some  inquiries. 

A  month  elapsed  before  anything  definite  could  be 
established,  but  it  was  enough  to  destroy  the  possibility 
of  Escosura  seeing  Spain  for  some  little  time.  We 
learnt  that  the  real  name  of  the  suspected  man  was 
Carlos  Kuhn,  that  he  was  a  Spaniard  of  German  origin, 
born  in  1887,  and  that  beyond  all  doubt  he  was  con¬ 
nected  with  the  enemy’s  Secret  Service.  He  had  been 
in  Germany  on  the  outbreak  of  war,  and  had  apparently 
made  another  trip  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  fresh 
instructions.  The  fact  that  he  had  not  voluntarily 
landed  in  this  country  precluded  our  bringing  him  to 
trial ;  we  could  only  make  an  order  for  his  intern¬ 
ment. 

But  that  was  not  the  last  we  were  to  hear  of  Carlos 
Kuhn.  On  November  3rd,  1917,  he  escaped  from  Read¬ 
ing  Gaol  and  made  his  way  to  London.  The  following 
day  Scotland  Yard  was  astounded  to  receive  a  message 
from  the  Spanish  Embassy,  stating  that  Kuhn  had 
arrived  there,  and  as  a  Spanish  subject  claimed  sanc¬ 
tuary.  The  situation  was  a  ticklish  one,  full  of  inter¬ 
national  complications,  especially  in  view  of  the  fact 
that  there  was  no  known  precedent  for  dealing  with  it. 
However,  the  full  truth  of  the  case  was  put  before  the 


The  Spanish  Journalist  209 

Spanish  Ambassador,  who  thereupon  handed  Kuhn 
over  to  us,  to  finish  the  remainder  of  the  war  in  a  camp 
where  escape  was  a  little  more  difficult. 

•f* 

From  the  time  of  the  arrest  of  Eva  de  Bournonville 
it  was  becoming  increasingly  evident  to  our  counter¬ 
espionage  authorities  that  the  Germans  were  finding 
it  exceedingly  difficult  to  send  any  spies  to  England 
who  possessed  the  remotest  chance  of  remaining  long 
enough  to  enable  them  to  forward  any  information  of 
value.  The  activities  of  our  spy-catchers  during  1915 
had  been  so  remarkable  that  for  some  two  or  three 
months  the  enemy  seems  to  have  been  at  his  wit’s  end 
to  obtain  somebody  who  would  not  arouse  suspicion 
immediately.  Finally,  he  made  a  choice  which  even 
to  this  day  appears  inexplicable. 

In  February,  1916,  we  learnt,  no  matter  how,  that  a 
German  spy,  named  Adolfo  Guerrero,  was  on  his  way 
to  England.  The  port  authorities  were  duly  warned, 
and  Guerrero  was  permitted  to  land,  all  unsuspecting 
that  from  the  time  of  his  arrival  his  movements  and 
correspondence  were  under  strict  surveillance.  Ac¬ 
cording  to  his  papers,  he  was  a  Spanish  journalist, 
thirty  years  of  age,  representing  the  well-known 
Madrid  newspaper  Libral.  But,  most  astounding  of 
all,  he  could  not  speak  a  word  of  English  !  Never 
has  a  spy  embarked  upon  a  hazardous  mission  with 
such  a  disadvantage  ;  probably  the  German  Secret 
Service  imagined  that,  owing  to  his  inability  to  speak 
our  language,  he  would  never  be  suspected. 

Guerrero  made  his  way  to  London  and  stayed  at  a 
hotel  near  Piccadilly  Circus,  a  favourite  of  cosmopolitan 

14 


210  German  Spies  at  Bay 

London.  Like  so  many  German  spies,  he  possessed  a 
lady  love,  a  professional  dancer  named  Raymonde 
Amondarain,  otherwise  known  as  Aurora  de  Bilbao 
and  Le  Sultano.  Apparently  it  had  been  impossible 
to  bring  her  to  London,  owing  to  the  difficulties  of  ob¬ 
taining  a  passport.  But  once  here  Guerrero  devoted 
himself  to  finding  someone  who  would  be  willing  to 
pretend  that  if  Raymonde  Amondarain  only  came  to 
London  there  was  a  situation  awaiting  her.  He 
succeeded ;  a  Spanish  merchant  near  Fenchurch 
Street  wrote  a  letter  to  the  dancer,  then  staying  in 
Paris,  telling  her  that  he  had  a  clerical  position  in  his 
office  open  to  her,  would  she  please  come  to  London  at 
once  ?  It  never  seemed  to  strike  these  people  that 
the  offer  of  a  clerkship  to  a  professional  dancer  with 
expensive  habits  was  in  any  way  incongruous. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  Raymonde  Amondarain  succeeded 
in  persuading  the  French  authorities  to  grant  her  a 
passport.  But  in  the  meantime  we  bad  ascertained 
with  certainty  that  Guerrero  was  in  England  for  pur¬ 
poses  of  espionage,  and  when  Amondarain  stated  on 
arrival  that  she  had  come  to  join  her  future  husband, 
Senor  Guerrero,  it  was  thought  advisable  to  detain  her 
and  take  her  to  Scotland  Yard  for  interrogation.  Her 
examination  proved  that  the  particulars  on  her  pass¬ 
port  did  not  tally  with  her  own  statements,  and  after 
she  had  been  put  through  a  questionnaire  she  was 
placed  in  custody. 

Guerrero  was  probably  quite  unaware  of  the  arrest 
of  his  inamorata.  For  some  few  days  longer  he  was 
allowed  to  remain  at  large,  while  the  case  against  him 
was  being  thoroughly  substantiated,  and  when  that 
had  been  done  instructions  were  sent  to  Scotland  Yard 
to  place  him  under  arrest.  This  took  place  on  Feb- 


The  Passionate  Dancer 


211 


ruary  18th,  at  an  address  in  Whitfield  Street,  off  Totten¬ 
ham  Court  Road.  Guerrero,  who  was  found  in  bed, 
was  a  good-looking  young  man  of  smart  appearance, 
and  burst  into  a  flood  of  voluble  Spanish  which  the 
interpreter  present,  who  told  him  the  nature  of  the 
charge,  could  hardly  follow,  except  to  glean  the  fact 
that  he,  Guerrero,  was  a  genuine  journalist  and  had 
come  to  England  to  write  articles  for  two  Madrid  news¬ 
papers. 

The  subsequent  examination  of  Guerrero  and  the 
dancer  revealed  a  drama  of  absorbing  interest.  Amon- 
darain  grew  hysterical  in  defence  of  her  lover,  and 
shouted  at  her  interrogators  in  strident  voice  :  “You 
suspect  him  of  being  a  spy.  You  ought  to  be  careful 
of  what  you  say.  There  are  people  in  Spain  who  will 
make  you  pay  heavily  for  your  presumption.”  Being 
case-hardened  to  ladies  of  the  Amondarain  type,  we 
merely  continued  our  questions. 

“  Do  you  know  any  Germans  ?  ”  we  asked  ;  by  way 
of  reply  the  lady  related  in  great  detail,  to  show  how 
she  detested  the  Germans,  that  once  in  Genoa  she  had 
been  present  at  a  dinner  which  included  a  few  Germans. 
According  to  the  dancer’s  story,  one  of  these  Germans 
became  drunk  and  spilt  champagne  over  her  dress, 
whereupon  she  retaliated  by  throwing  her  glass  at  him. 
Thereupon  the  proprietor  intervened  and  threw  the 
entire  party  out  on  the  pavement.  It  was  an  interest¬ 
ing  enough  sidelight  on  Amondarain’s  character,  but 
hardly  an  answer  to  an  accusation  of  espionage,  and 
we  told  her  so.  Thereupon  she  told  us  in  passionate 
voice  how  for  years  she  had  wanted  to  marry  Guerrero, 
and  how  always  something  had  cropped  up  to  prevent 
it.  But  we  replied  that  even  marriage  was  no  excuse 
for  false  passports,  and  that  by  consorting  with  a 

14* 


212  German  Spies  at  Bay 

German  spy  she  was  rendering  herself  liable  to  the 
heaviest  penalty  in  the  land.  So,  weeping  bitterly, 
the  pretty  dancer  was  taken  back  to  the  cells,  and  we 
proceeded  to  the  interrogation  of  the  spy  himself. 

For  quite  a  long  time  Guerrero  showed  himself  an 
apt  disciple  of  Ananias.  He  spun  a  circumstantial 
story  of  how  he  was  connected  with  the  Spanish  aris¬ 
tocracy,  of  the  fortune  left  him  by  his  father,  the 
squandering  of  it,  and  his  recourse  to  journalism  as  a 
means  of  livelihood.  “  But,”  we  asked,  “  how  is  it 
that  you,  not  understanding  the  English  language, 
are  sent  here  to  write  articles  ?  Surely  such  a  promi¬ 
nent  paper  as  the  Libral  does  not  employ  foreign 
correspondents  unable  to  speak  the  tongue  of  the 
country  they  are  sent  to  ?  ”  Guerrero  doggedly  per¬ 
sisted  in  his  contention  that  he  had  been  sent  here  by 
two  Spanish  newspapers  to  write  articles  on  England 
during  time  of  war.  “  How  much  were  you  to  be  paid 
for  the  articles  ?  ”  was  our  next  question.  “  Three 
pounds  for  each  article,”  was  the  reply.  “  And  how 
many  have  you  written  in  the  sixteen  days  you  have 
been  here  ?  ”  “  Two,”  said  Guerro.  “  And  do  you 

suggest  that  you  can  keep  yourself  and  your  mistress 
on  three  pounds  a  week  ?  ”  There  was  no  answer  to 
that. 

Turning  to  the  question  of  his  identity  papers,  we 
asked  Guerrero  to  explain  the  palpable  alterations  on 
his  passport,  especially  that  of  the  signature  of  the 
editor  of  the  Libral.  Another  long  story  of  lies,  which 
we  listened  to  in  patience,  and  then  informed  him  of 
the  charge  of  being  a  German  spy.  “  I,”  replied 
Guerrero,  through  the  interpreter  present ;  “  that  is 
ridiculous.  How  could  I  be  a  spy  when  I  do  not 
understand  any  English  ?  What  information  could 


A  Scion  of  Nobility  213 

I  send  ?  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  am  devoted  to  the 
cause  of  the  Allies.” 

There  was  no  doubt,  however,  as  the  subsequent 
inquiries  revealed,  that  Guerrero  was  a  German  spy, 
and,  furthermore,  possessed  a  reputation  which  did 
not  assist  in  the  removal  of  our  suspicions.  The  case 
proved  exceedingly  troublesome,  for  it  was  necessary 
that  Scotland  Yard  officers  should  travel  to  Spain  to 
find  out  definitely  who  Guerrero  was.  He  was,  indeed, 
a  scion  of  the  Spanish  nobility,  but  had  fallen  into 
dissolute  habits  and  so  become  an  easy  victim  to  the 
wiles  of  the  many  German  agents  then  living  in  Spain. 
As  was  only  to  be  expected,  the  editor  of  the  Libral 
knew  nothing  whatever  of  him,  had  never  heard  his 
name,  and  laughed  at  the  suggestion  of  his  sending 
to  England  a  correspondent  unable  to  speak  the 
language. 

The  great  difficulties  surrounding  the  case,  and 
the  necessity  for  all  the  documents  being  in  both 
Spanish  and  English,  naturally  caused  a  good  deal 
of  delay  in  bringing  the  accused  man  to  trial,  and 
it  was  not  until  July  I3th-i4th,  1916,  that  he  ap¬ 
peared  at  the  Old  Bailey  to  answer  the  charge  of 
being  a  spy.  Prior  to  this  taking  place,  the  authorities 
had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  Raymonde  Amon- 
darain  had  not  been  aware  that  Guerrero  was  a  German 
agent,  and  that  no  purpose  would  be  served  by 
making  her  a  party  to  the  indictment.  She  was  kept 
in  custody,  however,  to  await  the  result  of  the  trial, 
and  then  to  be  deported  to  her  native  country,  Spain. 

Guerrero’s  trial  was  of  an  exhaustive  nature,  but 
although  his  cause  was  pleaded  with  great  eloquence, 
and  evidence,  in  the  form  of  a  letter  written  to  Spain, 
saying,  “  I  like  the  English  expansive  and  frank 


214 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

character,”  put  in  to  prove  his  sympathies  with  us, 
the  court  found  him  guilty  and  sentenced  him  to  death 
by  shooting. 

The  hypocrisy  of  the  whole  affair  became  evident 
a  few  days  afterwards,  when  he  wrote  from  his  prison 
cell  to  the  effect  that  if  his  life  were  spared  he  was 
prepared  to  give  us  information  within  his  know¬ 
ledge  which  would  enable  us  to  catch  all  the  German 
spies  in  the  country,  and  thus  alter  the  whole  course 
of  the  war.  But  even  in  his  subsequent  confession 
he  found  it  impossible  to  speak  the  truth.  He  told 
us  that  his  name  in  the  German  Secret  Service  was 
Victor  Guantas,  and  that  he  was  known  as  "  154,” 
also  that  he  was  the  154th  German  spy  to  come 
from  Spain  to  England !  With  great  pathos  he 
narrated  the  story  of  his  corruption  by  a  German  agent 
in  Barcelona,  the  grief  his  aristocratic  friends  would 
suffer  if  he  were  executed,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum. 
His  mission  in  England,  he  said,  was  to  proceed  to 
places  like  Glasgow  and  Falmouth,  from  which,  by 
means  of  a  code,  he  was  to  forward  particulars  of 
merchantmen  suitable  for  destruction  by  submarines. 
For  this  pleasant  task  he  was  to  receive  fifty  pounds 
a  week  and  a  commission  on  all  ships  sunk  as  a  result 
of  his  information. 

It  is  beyond  dispute  that  Adolfo  Guerrero  richly 
deserved  to  pay  the  supreme  penalty,  despite  his 
offer  to  assist  us.  But  apparently  his  influential 
friends  in  Spain  had  been  hard  at  work  pleading  for 
his  life ;  representations  were  received  from  the 
highest  quarters  that  the  sparing  of  the  spy’s  life 
would  be  regarded  in  Spanish  Court  circles  with  the 
greatest  gratitude.  After  deep  consideration  our 
authorities  decided  to  reprieve  the  condemned  man. 


The  Banns  Forbidden 


215 


and  in  place  of  the  death  penalty  substituted  a  sentence 
of  ten  years’  penal  servitude.  Guerrero  did  not  appear 
to  regard  his  escape  from  an  ignominious  end  with 
much  thankfulness  ;  his  volatile  Latin  temperament 
languished  in  the  cold  and  dreary  routine  of  a  convict 
prison.  Often  did  he  express  the  wish  that  his  friends 
had  never  troubled  about  him,  and  let  him  go  to  his 
death. 

After  his  conviction  Guerrero  was  permitted  to  have 
a  final  interview  with  Raymonde  Amondarain.  When 
this  took  place  he  told  the  woman  to  try  and  obtain 
permission  for  them  to  be  married  before  she  was  sent 
out  of  England.  Application  to  this  effect  was  sub 
sequently  made  to  our  Foreign  Office,  but  we  saw 
no  reason  for  granting  it,  and  in  September,  1916, 
Amondarain  was  deported  to  Spain,  with  instructions 
that  henceforth  England  was  forbidden  to  her. 

One  of  the  curious  features  about  the  Guerrero 
case  was  the  fact  that  in  the  possession  of  the  spy 
was  found  a  letter  telling  him  to  call  at  a  certain 
number  in  Stockwell  Road,  Brixton.  This  was  the 
same  house  where  Courtenay  de  Rysbach,  whom  I 
have  previously  mentioned,  was  arrested  in  1915.  It 
is  interesting  as  revealing  the  circulation  of  addresses 
amongst  the  different  members  of  the  German  Secret 
Service. 

****** 

It  says  a  great  deal  for  the  carefulness  displayed 
by  our  counter-espionage  officials  that,  of  all  the 
suspected  spies  who  were  brought  to  trial,  only  one 
was  found  to  be  not  guilty.  This  was  the  case  of 
Johann  Christian  Zahle  Lassen,  an  elderly  Dane. 

To  a  certain  extent  it  was  always  a  wonder  to  us 


216 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

that  the  German  Secret  Service  did  not  attempt 
to  make  more  profitable  use  of  Denmark  as  a  base 
for  espionage  operations  in  England.  We  were 
always  on  good  terms  with  the  Danes,  and  for  a  time, 
at  any  rate,  the  enemy  might  well  have  utilized 
Copenhagen  as  he  did  Rotterdam.  However,  being 
on  most  occasions  an  apostle  of  the  obvious,  the  Hun 
stuck  to  Holland,  and  thereby  rendered  our  task  of 
countering  his  espionage  much  more  simple. 

In  the  case  of  a  long  war,  when  spies  and  counter- 
spies  were  travelling  all  over  Europe,  it  was  inevitable 
that  sooner  or  later  someone  would  be  brought  to  trial 
for  an  offence  which  had  not  actually  been  committed, 
although  in  the  instance  of  Lassen  he  himself  frankly 
admitted  that  there  was  every  reason  for  placing  him 
under  arrest. 

Towards  the  end  of  1915  Lassen  aroused  our  suspicion 
by  his  movements  around  England.  His  ostensible 
source  of  livelihood  was  that  of  a  commission  agent 
in  whisky  and  wine,  but  the  amount  of  business  he 
did  hardly  appeared  to  justify  his  presence  here. 
There  was  additional  ground  for  alarm  as  the 
towns  he  was  known  to  have  visited,  Hull,  Liverpool 
and  Newcastle,  were  not  places  where  a  foreigner  was 
welcome  in  those  days.  On  the  supposition  that 
Lassen  was  an  agent  of  the  enemy’s  Secret  Service, 
we  placed  him  under  arrest,  and  brought  him  to  Scot¬ 
land  Yard  to  be  interrogated. 

Whatever  he  may  have  been,  Lassen  had  certainly 
had  an  adventurous  life.  Coming  of  a  well-known 
clerical  family,  he,  like  so  many  Danes,  had  taken  to 
the  sea  as  a  means  of  living.  This  calling  he  followed 
with  fair  success  ;  he  managed  to  save  a  little  money, 
and  with  it  started  a  small  tobacco  plantation.  That 


217 


A  Story  of  Copenhagen 

failed  to  pay,  and  Lassen  went  a-roaming  all  over 
the  world,  to  become  in  time  clerk,  salesman,  kinema 
proprietor,  wine  and  spirit  merchant,  and  a  dozen 
other  trades.  According  to  the  story  he  told,  he  had 
come  to  England  to  buy  whisky  in  London  for  re-sale, 
taking  the  whisky  back  to  Denmark  and  disposing 
of  it  there.  We  suggested  to  Lassen  that  the  profit 
on  the  sale  of  five  dozen  whisky  was  hardly  sufficient 
to  meet  the  expense  of  his  travelling  to  and  fro,  a 
fact  which  he  did  not  deny.  His  version  was  that  it 
was  only  a  start,  and  that  he  expected  to  do  much 
better  in  the  future. 

So  we  went  on  with  our  examination.  “  Do  you 
know  Count  Ranzow,  the  German  Ambassador  in 
Copenhagen  ?  ”  we  inquired.  Lassen  grew  rather 
flustered  at  this,  and  told  us  a  lengthy  story  of  how  he 
had  made  the  acquaintance  of  that  individual.  It 
seems  that  in  Copenhagen  one  day  he  was  introduced 
to  a  Danish  prince,  who  in  time  presented  him  to  his 
German  wife.  That  lady,  being  keen  in  the  interests 
of  the  Fatherland,  and  learning  that  Lassen  had  been 
travelling  to  England  and  back,  suggested  that  the 
German  Ambassador  might  be  glad  to  have  a  talk 
with  him.  Lassen  duly  called  on  Count  Ranzow, 
who  said  to  him  that  when  he  went  to  England  again 
he  might  try  and  ascertain  what  the  moral  of  the 
people  was  like,  and  whether  we  were  growing  at  all 
tired  of  the  war. 

So  far  as  we  could  establish,  the  question  of  pay¬ 
ment,  which  would  have  inculpated  Lassen  beyond 
recovery,  was  not  mentioned  at  this  interview.  He 
duly  came  to  England,  bought  what  whisky  he  could, 
and  on  his  return,  according  to  his  own  statement, 
called  again  on  Count  Ranzow,  and  told  him  that 


218 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

everything  in  England  was  going  on  much  as  usual, 
and  that  the  determination  to  win  the  war  was 
stronger  than  ever.  “  And  what  of  our  Zeppelin 
raids  ?  ”  inquired  the  Ambassador.  "  Are  the  people 
greatly  frightened  ?  ”  “  They  are  not,”  replied  the 

Dane  emphatically.  “You  annoy  them  greatly, 
that  is  all.  For  the  slight  material  damage  your  air¬ 
ships  do  you  anger  them,  so  that  they  are  resolved 
at  all  hazards  to  humble  you  in  the  dust.” 

That  statement  caused  Count  Ranzow  to  ponder 
a  little.  “  Ah,  well,”  he  said  at  length  ;  “  next  time 
we  shall  send  a  fleet  of  forty  or  fifty  Zeppelins,  and 
see  if  that  will  have  any  effect.” 

Lassen  admitted  having  gone  to  Berlin  and  seen 
there  a  Dr.  Katz.  “  Did  you  know  that  Dr.  Katz 
belongs  to  the  German  Secret  Service  ?  ”  we  asked. 
Lassen  said  that  he  did  not ;  that  his  business  with 
the  Doctor  was  purely  commercial.  “  I  know  I  have 
the  reputation  in  Copenhagen  of  being  a  Deutsche- 
freundlich,”  the  suspected  man  said;  “but,  all  the 
same,  I  am  not  a  German  spy.”  However,  it  was  all 
very  dubious,  and  after  consultation  the  authorities 
decided  to  place  him  on  trial.  This  took  place  by 
court-martial  at  the  Westminster  Guildhall  on  J  anuary 
26th-27th,  1916,  and  after  a  two-days  hearing  the 
accused  man  was  acquitted.  Subsequently  he  was 
repatriated  to  Denmark  at  the  expense  of  the  British 
Government,  and  told  that  if  he  had  any  idea  of 
coming  to  this  country  again  it  would  be  wiser  for 
him  to  forget  it. 

Just  about  the  time  that  Lassen  was  being  kept 
under  surveillance  the  port  authorities  had  grave 
reasons  to  suspect  that  naval  intelligence  was  being 
conveyed  to  the  Germans  through  the  medium  of  fruit. 


A  New  Use  for  Fruit 


219 


The  plan  was  certainly  a  clever  one,  for  who  was  to 
suspect  that  the  skin  of  an  apple  or  pear  was  being 
used  to  send  messages  concerning  the  whereabouts  of 
our  naval  units. 

It  was  known  that  Dutch  steamers  trading  to  Hull 
were  being  boarded  by  German  agents,  who  tried  to 
induce  some  of  the  more  responsible  members  of  the 
crew  to  land  in  England,  and  by  means  of  certain  marks 
on  apples  or  pears  to  send  information  of  our  ships. 
The  spy  was  to  remain  in  England,  and  hand  the 
marked  fruit  to  a  confederate,  who  would  have  no 
difficulty  in  escaping  detection  when  the  usual  search 
was  made. 

So  far  as  we  could  learn,  the  Germans  had  great 
difficulty  in  inducing  anyone  to  undertake  the 

work,  although  a  Dutch  mate  named  Van  Z - came 

under  suspicion  as  being  concerned  in  the  plot.  The 
career  of  this  individual  was  quite  brief.  Thanks  to 
the  vigilance  of  a  British  wireless  operator,  we  arrested 

Van  Z - in  a  suburb  of  Hull  not  long  after  he  had 

landed.  He  was  closely  interrogated,  but  the  evidence 
against  him  was  so  slight  that  we  had  to  content 
ourselves  with  deporting  him,  notifying  all  our  port 
officials  that  he  was  not  to  be  permitted  to  return. 

****** 

The  Boarding  Officers  who  intercepted  ships  from 
South  America  occasionally  made  some  useful  finds. 
In  October,  1916,  we  had  cause  to  detain  a  Swede 
named  Axel  Harold  Brebst,  whose  acquaintance  we 
had  long  desired  to  make. 

To  outward  appearances  Brebst  was  a  Swedish 
Consul  in  a  South  American  State,  but  we  knew  him 


220 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

better,  thanks  to  the  cable  and  postal  censorship, 
as  a  very  active  German  agent.  Further,  Axel  was 
the  brother  of  Willie  Brebst,  who  was  editing  in 
Sweden  a  violently  pro-German  paper  called  Vidi. 

Naturally  enough,  these  facts  rather  prejudiced 
Axel’s  voluble  explanations  as  to  his  bona  fides,  and 
when  we  proceeded  to  search  his  effects  we  had 
additional  reason  to  be  suspicious,  for  did  they  not 
contain  a  chart  showing  the  boom  defences  and 
torpedo  nets  around  the  Scottish  coast  ?  Axel  gave 
us  a  specious  account  of  his  purchase  of  the  chart 
in  New  York,  but  he  failed  to  satisfy  us  as  to  the 
markings,  and  when  we  also  learnt  that  he  was  in 
close  touch  with  the  notorious  diamond  smuggler, 
Parsmar,  we  thought  that  he  had  better  stay  in 
England  for  the  duration  of  the  war.  We  gave  him 
twenty-one  days’  imprisonment  for  having  the  chart 
in  his  possession,  and,  when  that  was  finished,  put  him 
into  an  internment  camp.  From  time  to  time  Axel 
launched  passionate  petitions,  begging  to  be  deported, 
but  we  merely  replied,  “  Nay.” 


CHAPTER  XIII 


The  spy  who  dealt  in  films — Belgian  spies — The  cases  of  Pierer 
Rothheudt  and  Madame  Albertine  Stanaway — Getting  on  the 
track  of  the  master  spies  in  Holland. 

The  gradual  improvement  which  time  had  enabled 
us  to  effect  in  obtaining  information  abroad  as  to  the 
activities  and  intentions  of  the  German  Secret  Service 
was  naturally  bringing  about  a  diminution  in  the 
number  of  German  spies  whom  we  were  able  to  lay  by 
the  heels. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  in  January,  1916, 
a  new  Directorate  of  Military  Intelligence  had  been 
formed,  and  from  that  time  onward  there  was  a  cor¬ 
responding  improvement  in  that  portion  of  our  Secret 
Service  which  kept  in  touch  with  enemy  activities 
abroad.  We  were  able  to  gather  a  mass  of  intelligence 
concerning  the  enemy’s  methods,  together  with  par¬ 
ticulars  of  the  people  he  was  employing,  which  very 
largely  resulted  in  spies  finding  it  impossible  to  land 
here  at  all.  In  all  probability  the  Germans  were 
rather  disheartened  at  the  regularity  with  which  we 
captured  their  agents,  and  it  was  three  or  four  months 
after  Adolfo  Guerrero  had  been  caught  before  another 
spy  of  any  importance  came  our  way. 

In  the  spring  of  1916,  we  had  a  notification  from 
Rotterdam  that  a  Dutch  Jew,  calling  himself  Leopold 
Vieyra,  was  coming  to  England  for  the  purpose  of 
obtaining  information  as  to  the  movements  of  troops, 
the  production  of  munition  factories,  and  the  moral 


221 


222  German  Spies  at  Bay 

of  the  British  people  generally.  The  source  of  such 
intelligence  was  not  altogether  above  suspicion,  but 
we  could  not  afford  to  neglect  the  warning,  and  when 
Vieyra  arrived  from  Flushing  he  was  detained  and 
taken  to  Scotland  Yard  for  interrogation. 

Vieyra  proved  to  be  a  fluent-tongued  little  man, 
speaking  English  and  Dutch  equally  well.  He  was 
not  a  stranger  to  this  country  by  any  means,  for 
about  seven  years  he  had  been  a  dealer  in  films  under 
the  name  of  Leo  Pickard,  and  was  well  known  in  the 
kinema  trade.  At  one  time  of  his  career  he  had 
managed  a  picture  house  in  Finchley  Road,  N.W., 
leaving  that  when  the  person  who  owned  the  theatre 
disposed  of  it.  From  thence  onward  he  appears  to 
have  picked  up  some  sort  of  a  living  buying  and 
selling  films,  both  here  and  in  Holland. 

According  to  the  particulars  forwarded  to  us  from 
the  Netherlands,  a  well-known  German  agent  had 
given  Vieyra,  three  days  before  he  left,  2,500  florins 
and  expenses  for  one  month  at  fifty  shillings  a  day. 
Furthermore,  another  2,500  florins  had  been  deposited 
in  a  Dutch  bank  against  Vieyra’s  return  in  two  months’ 
time.  This  was  in  May,  1916. 

Before  the  information  had  come  into  our  posses¬ 
sion  Vieyra  had  been  sternly  told  that  he  would  not 
be  permitted  to  travel  to  and  from  Holland  without 
hindrance ;  it  would  be  necessary  for  him  to  remain 
in  one  country  or  the  other  until  the  war  was  over. 
Vieyra  replied  that  all  his  business  interests  were 
here,  and  that  he  would  prefer  to  stay  in  London. 

He  appears  to  have  been  a  ubiquitous  type  of 
scoundrel,  for  he  had  two  mistresses,  one  in  Amster¬ 
dam,  the  other  in  London,  and  both  blissfully  unaware 
of  the  other’s  existence. 


223 


The  Dutch  Film  Agent 

Ever  since  we  had  received  news  that  he  was  suspect 
a  check  had  been  kept  on  his  correspondence,  with 
the  result  that  he  was  found  to  be  communicating 
with  his  Dutch  mistress,  and  also  with  somebody 
named  Blom.  About  the  middle  of  July  we  noticed 
that  in  his  letters  to  the  woman  he  mentioned  that 
he  was  trying  to  get  back  to  Holland.  This  confirmed 
our  original  information  that  he  was  to  return  in  two 
months  and  claim  his  money.  Blom’s  letters  to  the 
little  Jew  were  equally  curious.  “  If  you  cannot  do 
anything  in  London,  try  the  provinces,”  he  said. 
In  another,  "  Blom  ”  evinced  the  greatest  interest 
as  to  what  Vieyra  had  bought  outside  London. 

The  suspicion  that  the  Dutch  film  dealer  was  a 
German  spy  had  become  almost  a  certainty  in  our 
minds,  but  to  make  certain,  inquiries  were  instituted 
in  Amsterdam.  Much  as  was  expected,  the  address 
to  which  Vieyra  was  writing  to  Blom  was  that  of 
someone  connected  with  the  German  Secret  Service. 
In  fact,  there  was  no  Mynheer  Blom  living  there  at 
all.  A  woman  answered  our  call,  and  on  being  pressed, 
informed  us  that  she  was  Mrs.  Simon  Dikker,  but 
that  her  maiden  name  was  Sophia  Blom.  Her  hus¬ 
band,  it  may  be  said,  was  the  brother  of  a  well-known 
German  agent,  whom  we  had  come  across  in  the  case 
of  a  convicted  spy  named  Griete.  When  asked  who 
“  S.  Blom  ”  was  Mrs.  Dikker  replied  :  “  He  is  my 
cousin,  and  he  has  an  export  and  import  business,  and 
is  very  seldom  at  home.  He  travels  to  Belgium  and 
to  Flushing,  and  I  believe  he  is  a  friend  of  Leopold 
Vieyra.” 

That  was  all  the  lady  would  tell  us  ;  she  shut  the 
door,  saying  she  knew  nothing  further  of  the  person 
who  bore  her  own  maiden  name.  We  therefore  had 


224 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

little  or  no  hesitation  in  concluding  that  Mrs.  Dikker’s 
address  was  nothing  but  a  post-box,  and  that  the 
correspondence  to  England  was  probably  the  work 
of  Simon  Dikker  or  his  brother. 

While  this  was  going  on,  Vieyra  in  England  was 
anxiously  trying  to  get  back  to  his  native  Holland. 
More  than  a  suspicion  was  gathering  in  his  mind  that 
he  was  being  closely  watched,  and  people  in  the  film 
trade  were  beginning  to  look  at  him  askance.  On 
July  21st,  despite  the  notification  he  had  received  that 
he  could  not  have  another  passport,  he  made  applica¬ 
tion  to  the  Permit  Office  to  return  to  Holland.  This 
was  referred  to  the  counter-espionage  authorities  and 
refused,  as  a  matter  of  course. 

Another  month  elapsed,  during  which  time  all  his 
correspondence  was  intercepted  in  the  hope  of  in¬ 
criminating  him  still  further.  On  August  24th  the 
authorities  decided  to  arrest  him,  and  for  that  purpose 
detectives  proceeded  to  his  house  in  Acton  Vale,  and 
conveyed  him  to  Scotland  Yard  to  be  interrogated. 

The  story  he  told  of  his  business  dealings  in  England 
did  nothing  to  clear  him.  Since  May  he  had  bought 
films  to  the  value  of  £164,  and  sold  them  at  a  profit 
of  about  £ 80 .  We  suggested  to  him  that  this  hardly 
accounted  for  the  amount  he  had  spent  in  household 
expenses,  and  when  asked  how  he  managed  to  make 
ends  meet  he  told  us  that  when  he  came  over  from 
Holland  he  was  in  possession  of  a  draft  for  £125,  and 
that  since  then  he  had  received  further  remittances 
of  £100  and  £121  from  his  “  partner,”  Mr.  Blom.  We 
put  it  to  him  that  “  Mr.  Blom  ”  was  a  lady.  “  That 
is  not  so,”  was  the  reply ;  “  it  is  a  man.” 

“  We  know  who  Mr.  S.  Blom  is,”  said  his  inter¬ 
rogator,  “  and  we  know  that  it  is  a  lady.” 


A  Poor  Explanation  225 

Vieyra  told  us  that  was  the  first  he  had  heard  of 
such  a  thing,  and  that  he  was  not  acquainted  with 
any  lady  of  that  name.  When  we  asked  him  where 
he  had  met  “  Mr.  Blom,”  he  told  us  a  story  which 
required  some  little  believing.  “  Mr.  Blom  ”  was  just 
a  person  whom  he  had  met  in  a  cafe.  He  knew  him 
as  a  perfect  gentleman,  stout  and  elderly,  with  hair 
turning  grey,  dark  eyes  and  full  face. 

“  But  how  does  he  come  to  let  you  have  all  his 
money  ?  ”  we  asked. 

“  Oh,  I  talk  to  them,  and  put  a  scheme  before  them, 
and  if  they  see  I  can  make  profits  they  are  quite 
willing  to  give  me  money.” 

“  Have  you  got  a  photograph  of  Mr.  Blom  ?  ”  was 
our  next  question. 

“  No,  I  do  not  keep  gentlemen’s  photos,”  replied 
Vieyra. 

And  so  it  continued  for  a  couple  of  hours.  It  was 
a  tangled  skein  of  lies,  and  when  it  was  all  over  and 
we  informed  Vieyra  that  we  were  going  to  proceed 
against  him  on  a  charge  of  being  a  German  spy  he 
replied,  in  astonishment:  “What,  me?”  “Yes, 
you,”  we  said,  and  put  him  in  prison  to  await  further 
investigation. 

It  is  possible  that  Vieyra  would  not  have  professed 
such  great  surprise  had  he  known  that  his  house  in 
Acton  Vale  had  been  thoroughly  searched  and  that 
in  one  of  the  bedrooms  was  found  a  complete  outfit 
for  writing  in  invisible  ink.  It  had  been  a  matter  of 
some  difficulty  to  detect  the  ink  he  had  been  using, 
but  it  was  ultimately  developed  and  found  to  be  the 
means  of  conveying  naval  and  military  intelligence 
which  might  have  been  of  the  greatest  value  to  the 
enemy.  A  bottle  of  the  same  liquid  was  found  at 

15 


226  German  Spies  at  Bay 

his  house,  and  when  a  summary  of  evidence  had  been 
taken  it  was  plain  enough  that  his  conviction  was 
inevitable.  On  November  nth  he  was  tried  by  court- 
martial,  found  guilty  and  sentenced  to  death  by 
shooting.  This  sentence  was  subsequently  commuted 
to  one  of  penal  servitude  for  life. 

Vieyra’s  disappearance  from  his  usual  haunts  in 
the  west-end  of  London  created  some  little  talk  at  the 
time.  It  was  known  that  he  was  suspect  owing  to 
its  being  necessary  to  obtain  the  evidence  of  several 
film  dealers  in  establishing  the  case  against  him. 
But  his  ultimate  fate  never  became  known  to  that 
cosmopolitan  crowd  which  revolves  around  Wardour 
Street,  the  film  centre  of  Great  Britain. 

****** 

From  the  early  days  of  the  war,  when  thousands  of 
Belgian  refugees  were  pouring  across  the  Channel, 
there  was  a  strongly-ingrained  suspicion  in  the  minds 
of  many  English  men  and  women  that  the  Germans 
would  not  be  behindhand  in  taking  full  advantage  of 
such  an  opportunity  of  getting  spies  into  this  country. 
They  were  not  far  wrong.  It  would  take  a  very 
long  time  to  tell  of  the  unending  trouble  which  the 
harassed  Belgian  Government  suffered  from  in  trying 
to  establish  the  identity  of  many  of  the  people  who  said 
they  had  fled  from  the  German  invasion,  and  equally 
of  the  difficulties  we  experienced  in  trying  to  keep  some 
check  on  their  coming  and  going  once  the  fighting  on 
the  Western  Front  had  settled  down  to  trench  warfare. 

From  the  time  when  we  had  taken  in  hand  the  task 
of  reforming  what  was  left  of  the  gallant  little  Belgian 
Army  there  was  a  never-ending  stream  of  Belgian 
soldiers  crossing  to  and  fro.  It  was  obvious  that 


227 


A  Belgian  Traitor 

the  introduction  of  German  agents  in  such  circum¬ 
stances  was  a  comparatively  simple  matter.  I 
do  not  propose  to  deal  with  that  aspect  of  the  war 
beyond  mentioning  the  case  of  one  Pierre  Rothheudt, 
a  Belgian  soldier  of  German  origin,  who  was  arrested 
at  Folkestone  in  August,  1915,  and  sent  to  Belgium 
to  be  tried  on  a  charge  of  High  Treason,  to  be  subse¬ 
quently  sentenced  to  death,  afterwards  commuted 
to  penal  servitude  for  life  in  Fresnes  Prison. 

In  January,  1915,  we  received  a  warning  from 
Rotterdam  that  Rothheudt  was  coming  to  England 
in  the  capacity  of  German  agent.  In  those  early  days, 
however,  there  was  no  particularly  efficient  Port 
Service  in  operation,  and  it  was  impossible  to  ascertain 
definitely  when  Rothheudt  arrived  in,  and  when  he 
left  this  country. 

Further  information  came  our  way  in  July,  1915,  to 
the  effect  that  Rothheudt  was  mixed  up  with  two 
German  agents,  who  had  long  been  known  to  us, 
named  Hasebroek  and  Sanderson.  These  men  were 
known  to  us  as  master  spies,  operating  under  the 
names  of  Dierks  and  Flores,  in  which  capacities  they 
were  prominent  in  the  cases  of  Janssen  and  Roos, 
Rowland,  Buschman,  Roggen  and  Wertheim,  all 
persons  convicted  of  espionage  in  1915. 

Rothheudt,  however  long  his  stay  in  this  country 
in  the  guise  of  a  refugee,  appears  shortly  after  his 
arrival  to  have  been  absorbed  in  the  Belgian  military 
machine,  for,  on  July  10th,  1915,  we  learnt  that  he 
wrote  to  an  agent  in  Holland  from  a  hospital  at  La 
Panne,  stating  that  he  would  shortly  be  discharged, 
and  giving  the  address  of  Madame  Stanaway,  Cheriton 
Road,  Folkestone,  as  that  of  the  person  to  whose 
care  he  was  proceeding  in  England,  subsequent  to 

15* 


228 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

such  discharge.  He  added  that  he  was  starting  in 
a  few  days,  and  appears  to  have  arrived  two  days 
later.  This  letter  never  came  into  our  possession. 

A  further  letter,  particulars  of  which  we  received 
from  Holland,  was  written  by  Rothheudt  from  Folke¬ 
stone  on  the  21st  July,  1915,  to  another  German  agent. 
In  this  he  stated  that  he  was  on  sick  leave  and  gave 
other  details  of  no  great  importance. 

The  subsequent  history  of  Rothheudt  need  only  be 
briefly  related.  He  became  employed,  doubtless  for 
motives  of  espionage,  at  the  Belgian  Vice-Consulate 
at  Folkestone ;  we  warned  the  Belgian  authorities 
that  he  was  in  German  pay,  and  he  was  subsequently 
arrested,  placed  on  his  trial  in  Belgium  for  High 
Treason  and  giving  information  to  the  enemy,  being 
sentenced  on  September  18th,  1915. 

At  this  time  Madame  Stanaway,  whose  house  had 
been  searched  in  connection  with  Rothheudt’s  arrest, 
was  herself  under  no  particular  suspicion,  and  was 
thought  to  be  merely  a  close  friend  and  not  an  accom¬ 
plice  of  Rothheudt.  Her  papers  had  been  seized  on 
the  examination  of  her  effects,  and  handed  over  to 
the  Belgian  authorities  for  consideration  with  regard 
to  Rothheudt’s  case.  No  special  report  was  made 
to  us  by  the  Belgians  that  Madame  Stanaway  was 
thought  to  be  in  communication  with  the  enemy  also. 

On  July  16th,  1916,  owing  to  certain  instructions 
given  to  the  Censorship,  there  was  intercepted  a  letter, 
with  a  signature  which  appeared  to  be  Hanaway,  to 
“  Denis,”  Amsterdam.  This  letter  was  apparently 
innocent,  so  it  was  photographed  and  sent  on. 

Madame  Stanaway’ s  solicitude  in  providing  the 
person  in  Rotterdam  with  her  new  address — Sandgate 
Road,  Folkestone — naturally  caused  her  to  be  the 


The  Aumonier  of  Charing  Cross  229 

object  of  further  suspicion,  and  instructions  were  given 
for  a  closer  scrutiny  of  her  correspondence.  In  her 
letters  she  mentioned  her  friend  “  Pierre,”  who  was 
obviously  Rothheudt,  but  this  was  not  at  that  time 
clear  owing  to  the  fact  that  Rothheudt’s  name  had 
dropped  out  of  our  recollection  since  1915. 

On  August  nth,  1916,  a  further  letter,  from  Madame 
Stanaway  to  Denis,  was  intercepted.  It  acknowledged 
the  receipt  of  money,  stated  that  the  writer  would 
forward  it  to  “  the  unfortunate  consignee,”  and 
expressed  the  hope  that  the  addressee  had  received 
her  registered  letter  of  the  9th  instant.  It  concluded 
by  thanking  the  addressee  for  his  generous  solicitude 
“  towards  our  friend.”  It  was  still  not  clear  that 
Rothheudt  was  the  friend  in  question,  and  the  atmo¬ 
sphere  of  the  case  of  Madame  Stanaway  remained  one 
of  vague  and  general  suspicion. 

Subsequent  to  the  receipt  of  the  last  letter  there 
came  into  our  possession  a  registered  letter  posted 
in  the  W.C.  District,  dated  August  9th,  1916,  from  a 
person  signing  as  “  R.  Valravens,”  who  called  himself 
“  paymaster  ”  (“  aumonier  ”),  and  giving  as  an  address 
a  hotel  at  Charing  Cross.  It  was  addressed  to  Denis, 
at  the  same  street  in  Amsterdam.  In  it  the  writer 
stated  that  “  P.R.”  had  requested  the  writer  to  inform 
the  addressee  that  from  that  time  forward  he  (P.R.)  was 
not  able  to  write  to  Denis  ;  that  Denis’s  letters  were 
not  being  handed  to  “  P.R.,”  and  it  was  therefore 
useless  to  write,  but  that  nevertheless  there  could 
be  sent  to  “  P.R.”  money  “  as  well  as  the  pince-nez 
in  question.”  The  letter  was  addressed  inside  to  a 
woman,  and  specially  requested  that  no  answer  to 
it  should  be  sent.  It  was  written  on  the  paper  of  the 
hotel. 


230 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

It  was  fairly  obvious  that  the  address  at  Charing 
Cross  was  nothing  but  a  blind,  so  inquiries  were  made 
as  to  whether  the  writer  was  known  at  the  hotel.  A 
blank  was  drawn,  however,  and  the  letter,  on  being 
treated  for  invisible  writing,  revealed  nothing.  A 
special  watch  was  kept  for  further  letters  from  Stanaway 
or  Valravens,  but  none  came.  It  being  probable  that 
no  more  evidence  would  be  forthcoming,  and  the 
authorities  therefore  decided  that  the  time  had  come 
when  Madame  Stanaway  should  be  arrested  and  asked 
to  explain  her  connection  with  convicted  spies  and 
members  of  the  German  Secret  Service. 

There  could  be  no  possible  doubt  of  her  guilt.  The 
handwriting  of  the  letters  to  the  German  master  spy 
in  Amsterdam  was  the  same.  Valravens  was  un¬ 
questionably  an  alias  of  Madame  Stanaway,  used 
for  the  special  purpose  of  diverting  suspicion.  And 
equally  it  was  certain  that  the  woman  had  been 
supplied  with  two  addresses,  the  usual  practice  of  the 
Germans,  in  case  one  letter  should  go  astray  or  be 
detained  by  our  censorship. 

Madame  Stanaway  was  arrested  on  December  7th, 
1916.  She  professed  the  greatest  astonishment  when 
the  nature  of  the  charge  was  told  her,  and  suggested 
that  she  would  soon  be  able  to  clear  herself.  When 
brought  to  Scotland  Yard  to  be  interrogated  she 
informed  those  present  that  she  was  a  Frenchwoman 
married  to  a  British  soldier  at  that  time  serving 
in  India.  When  questioned  as  to  how  Rothheudt 
came  to  be  living  in  her  house  she  stated  that  she 
knew  nothing  of  him  beyond  the  fact  that  he  was  a 
wounded  Belgian  who  had  been  recommended  to  her 
as  a  lodger.  According  to  her  vehemently-told  story, 
Rothheudt  had  been  taken  away  from  her  place  and 


A  Dangerous  Woman  231 

sentenced  to  death  for  an  offence  of  which  to  that 
day  she  was  ignorant.  Madame  was  labouring  under 
the  delusion  all  spies  suffered  from  :  she  did  not 
know  how  much  we  knew.  When  she  was  arrested 
we  found  amongst  her  belongings  a  letter  to  her  from 
Rothheudt  dated  June  26th,  1915,  written  in  French, 
in  which  he  told  her  that  he  was  accused  of  giving  in¬ 
formation  to  the  Germans.  That  fact  alone  proved 
that,  whatever  Madame’s  morals  may  have  been,  she 
was  not  fond  of  telling  the  truth. 

“  Do  you  know  a  Mynheer  van  Melle  in  Holland  ? 
we  asked  next.  Madame  said  she  had  received  a  few 
postcards  from  him  and  also  a  pair  of  glasses. 

“  Have  you  ever  had  money  from  this  man  ?  ”  we 
inquired.  Madame  denied  the  allegation. 

“  Are  you  quite  sure  ?  ”  we  persisted.  After  some 
little  prevarication  the  lady  was  constrained  to  admit 
that  Van  Melle  had  forwarded  her  £3,  but  that  the 
money  was  for  Rothheudt. 

All  the  circumstances  pointed  to  the  fact  that 
Madame  Stanaway  had  been  corresponding  with  an 
“  aumonier  ”  of  the  German  Secret  Service.  In  one 
of  her  letters  which  came  into  our  possession  mention 
was  made  of  £ 2  sent  for  Rothheudt’s  parents.  This 
was  after  the  Belgian  soldier  had  been  arrested  and 
convicted,  and  was  consistent  with  the  practice  of  the 
enemy’s  Secret  Service,  which  always  maintained  some 
sort  of  payment  to  the  immediate  dependents  of 
captured  spies,  probably  for  the  reason  that  the 
relatives  might  be  inclined  to  tell  things.  In  any 
case,  Van  Melle  was  well-known  to  us :  the  Belgian 
Government  had  warned  us  of  his  activities,  and  told 
us  that  he  was  constantly  to  be  seen  at  Antwerp  in 
the  company  of  master  spies. 


232 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

If  any  further  proof  of  Madame  Stanaway’s  guilt 
were  needed  it  was  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  all 
her  letters  to  Denis  and  Van  Melle  were  numbered. 
This,  we  well  know,  was  a  common  method  amongst 
the  Germans  and  their  spies.  It  enabled  them  to 
keep  track  of  letters  in  case  one  was  lost  or  intercepted. 
The  difficult  matter  to  decide  was  whether  Madame 
could  actually  be  brought  to  trial  on  a  charge  of 
knowingly  corresponding  with  enemy  agents.  There 
could  be  no  question  that  she  had  committed  a  serious 
offence  under  the  Defence  of  the  Realm  Regulations : 
the  problem  to  solve  was  whether  any  practical  purpose 
would  be  served  by  bringing  her  to  trial  as  a  spy. 

After  prolonged  consultation  the  authorities  decided 
not  to  do  so.  Instead  it  was  resolved  to  lock  her  up 
for  the  remainder  of  the  war  and  then  deport  her. 
Always  there  remained  the  doubt  that  she  had  been 
merely  the  tool  of  Rothheudt. 

****** 

Although  the  story  of  Pierre  Rothheudt  and  Madame 
Stanaway  is  interesting  enough  in  itself,  I  have  devoted 
more  space  to  it  than  would  have  been  the  case  had 
it  not  been  connected  with  another  spy,  who  was  to 
prove  the  most  important  of  the  war. 

I  refer  to  George  Vaux  Bacon,  an  American  journa¬ 
list,  who  was  arrested  forty-eight  hours  after  Madame 
Stanaway.  Before  embarking  on  the  particulars 
of  this  amazing  incident  of  the  war  I  should  like  it 
understood  that  there  is  no  question  of  Madame  Stana¬ 
way  and  Bacon  having  acted  in  collusion.  The  con¬ 
nection  between  the  two  spies  lies  in  the  fact  that 
Bacon,  as  well  as  Madame  Stanaway,  had  been  caught 
writing  to  the  master  spy  Denis,  in  Amsterdam. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


The  great  spy  conspiracy  carried  out  by  American  journalists — 

George  Vaux  Bacon — Rutledge  Rutherford— Robert  W - 

— The  wonderful  secret  ink — Sentenced  to  death  and  reprieved. 

George  Vaux  Bacon  was  the  central  figure  in  the 
most  widespread  spy  conspiracy  of  the  war.  It  was 
always  a  matter  of  mystery  to  our  counter-espionage 
authorities  why  the  German  Secret  Service  previous 
to  1916  had  made  no  attempt  to  utilize  the  oppor¬ 
tunity  offered  by  the  fact  that  dozens  of  American 
journalists  were  continually  visiting  the  belligerent 
countries. 

Perhaps  they  did  try  and  failed,  for  it  was  well- 
known  to  us  that  the  United  States  Government 
exercised  the  most  scrupulous  care  in  the  selection 
of  such  writers.  Whatever  the  cause,  up  to  the  middle 
of  1916  we  had  been  given  no  reason  to  suspect  the 
bona  fides  of  the  many  American  journalists  who  landed 
in  this  country  :  they  were  made  welcome  and  given 
the  possibility  of  seeing  things  denied  to  the  British 
Press  in  the  hope  that  thereby  they  would  keep  our 
side  of  the  war  before  the  American  public  in  such  a 
way  that  would  ensure  the  maintenance  of  our  long- 
friendly  relations. 

To  begin  at  the  time  when  Bacon,  who  had  already 
been  in  England  for  a  few  weeks,  first  aroused  our 
suspicions  that  he  was  not  all  he  pretended,  I  must 
date  the  opening  of  this  narrative  from  September  20th, 

,233 


234  German  Spies  at  Bay 

1916.  On  that  day  the  Military  Permit  authorities 
in  Bedford  Square,  W.C.,  were  called  upon  by  Bacon, 
who  produced  his  passport,  stating  that  he  was  the 
European  representative  of  the  Central  Press  of 
New  York,  and  applied  for  permission  to  travel  to 
Rotterdam.  So  far  as  we  then  knew,  Bacon  was  a 
bona  fide  journalist,  and  no  objections  were  raised. 
He  left  for  Holland  about  five  days  later,  telling  the 
people  in  the  Strand  Hotel,  where  he  had  stayed,  that 
he  was  going  to  a  hotel  in  Rotterdam  which  shall  be 
nameless,  but  which  was  known  to  us  as  being  a  nest 
of  German  spies.  That  fact  was  only  ascertained  on 
subsequent  inquiry,  however. 

The  very  same  day  he  had  made  application  for 
permission  to  go  to  Holland  Bacon  had  written  a 
letter  to  the  German  agent  Denis,  in  Amsterdam,  in 
which  he  said  that  he  was  coming  to  Holland  on 
business  connected  with  his  American  employers  and 
that  he  hoped  to  meet  Denis  and  discuss  with  him 
the  production  of  a  Vitagraph  Photo  Play  and  make 
some  arrangements  for  booking  it.  But  the  significant 
part  of  the  letter  lay  in  the  numerous  and  unnecessary 
underlinings.  There  could  be  no  doubt  that  Bacon 
was  open  to  suspicion  as  a  German  spy. 

Unfortunately,  by  the  time  this  communication 
had  been  examined  and  passed  on  to  the  counter¬ 
espionage  source  it  was  already  nine  days  old.  An 
inquiry  was  set  on  foot  immediately,  but  it  was  dis¬ 
covered  that  Bacon  had  left  his  hotel  in  the  Strand. 
The  date  of  his  return  was  uncertain.  There  was 
nothing  to  be  done  except  notify  the  port  officials  to 
keep  a  look-out  for  him  in  case  he  should  return. 
In  the  meantime  we  thought  it  worth  while  to  send 
over  to  Holland  to  keep  track  of  the  suspected  man. 


235 


The  Big  Conspiracy 

Whatever  Bacon  may  have  been — and  he  informed 
us  afterwards  that  he  was  the  New  York  publicity 
agent  for  one  of  the  most  famous  film  companies  in 
the  world — there  was  no  question  that  he  knew 
precious  little  of  the  film  business  in  Holland.  As 
a  matter  of  pretence  he  appears  to  have  asked  for  the 
addresses  of  several  film  dealers,  probably  as  a  blind 
in  case  of  subsequent  trouble,  but  that  was  as  far  as 
he  got.  The  greater  part  of  his  time  was  spent  in 
the  company  of  two  fellow  Americans  whom  we  had 
every  reason  to  suspect  of  being  connected  with 
German  espionage.  One  was  a  tobacco  and  motor¬ 
car  dealer  whom  I  shall  designate  as  “  C,”  the  other 
a  journalist  of  the  name  of  Rutledge  Rutherford, 
whom  afterwards  we  desired  to  lay  hands  on,  but 
without  success. 

All  the  time  he  was  in  Holland  Bacon  was  being 
shadowed,  although  he  was  quite  unsuspicious  of  the 
fact.  This  was  apparent,  for  he  returned  openly 
enough  to  England  on  November  3rd,  landing  at  Graves¬ 
end.  Probably  as  a  clumsy  attempt  to  convince  the 
authorities  that  he  was  whole-heartedly  for  the  Allies, 
he  volunteered  a  statement  to  the  port  officials  that 
while  in  Amsterdam  a  Dutchman  of  the  name  of 
Hymans  had  approached  him  with  the  idea  of  pumping 
him  for  information,  but  that  he  had  refused  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  him.  It  did  not  interest  the  port 
officer  greatly  :  he  merely  searched  Bacon’s  luggage 
a  good  deal  more  thoroughly  than  would  have  been  the 
case  with  people  who  kept  their  mouths  shut. 

The  spy  came  to  London  and  put  up  at  an  hotel 
in  Southampton  Row,  still  of  the  opinion  that  he  had 
not  incurred  suspicion.  He  did  not  stay  in  London 
any  time,  however.  Only  a  few  hours  afterwards, 


236 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

the  officer  detailed  to  keep  him  under  observation  re¬ 
ported  that  he  had  left  for  Worcestershire.  Near 
Cheltenham  he  met  with  a  motor  accident,  and  bore 
the  marks  of  it  on  his  face  when  he  returned  to  London 
nearly  a  week  later,  in  company  with  an  officer  of  the 
King’s  Royal  Rifles  whom  I  shall  mention  in  greater 
detail  later.  By  this  time  all  Bacon’s  correspondence, 
as  well  as  his  movements,  was  under  the  closest  sur¬ 
veillance. 

Nothing  happened  for  a  month.  Bacon  travelled 
about  the  country,  sending  an  occasional  article  to 
New  York  which  was  harmless  enough  in  tone  and 
was  allowed  to  go  through.  On  November  26th  he 
embarked  at  Holyhead  for  Dublin,  and  while  in 
Ireland  he  visited,  in  addition  to  Dublin,  Cork, 
Killarney  and  Belfast.  That  he  was  in  Ireland  for 
purposes  of  espionage  would  appear  to  be  beyond 
all  doubt.  A  letter  from  Professor  Kuno  Meyer,  the 
well-known  German  authority  on  Celtic  matters, 
throws  some  light  on  the  anxiety  with  which  the  Ger¬ 
mans  regarded  matters  in  the  Isle  of  Erin.  The 
letter  said  : 

"  The  Deutschland  had  arrived,  and  will  take  for  you 
this  time  unusually  detailed  reports  from  everywhere. 
I  write  this  letter  in  case  the  same  fate  overtakes 
the  Deutschland  as  the  Bremen.  At  the  same  time 
I  send  yet  another  letter  by  the  route  known  to  you. 

It  concerns  . 

(2)  not  less  than  three  sources  of  information  from 
I  (reland),  all  in  the  highest  degree  satisfactory.” 

This  interesting  epistle  was  written  by  Meyer,  who 
was  a  member  of  the  so-called  Irish  Committee  in 


The  Master -spy  of  Amsterdam  237 

Berlin  which  concerned  itself  with  the  task  of  assist¬ 
ing  insurrection  in  Ireland.  It  merely  substantiated 
what  we  had  known  for  some  little  time,  that  Meyer 
had  been  entrusted  with  the  work  of  instructing  spies 
what  they  were  to  do  if  they  were  ever  in  Ireland. 
The  Dublin  rebellion,  engineered  by  the  traitor 
Roger  Casement  with  German  money,  was  still 
fresh  in  the  minds  of  the  people,  and  there  was  always 
the  possibility  that  amongst  the  Sinn  Fein  element 
there  might  be  someone  who  would  give  Bacon  really 
valuable  information. 

It  was  during  this  time  that  close  inquiries  had  been 
going  on  in  Amsterdam  as  to  the  identity  of  Mynheer 
Denis.  Both  Madame  Stanaway  and  Bacon  had 
been  writing  to  him,  and  on  the  result  of  our  investi¬ 
gations  would  depend  the  question  of  bringing  these 
people  to  trial.  We  found  that  Denis  was  a  German 
tobacco  dealer  and  the  people  he  consorted  with 
were  mainly  members  of  the  enemy  Secret  Service. 
The  business  was  run  by  a  nephew,  the  original  Denis 
having  died  some  years  ago. 

Early  in  December  we  again  got  on  the  tracks  of 
Bacon,  then  in  Ireland,  and  wrote  to  him,  asking  that 
he  would  come  to  Scotland  Yard  on  a  confidential 
matter.  Whether  the  spy  suspected  that  he  had 
come  to  the  end  of  his  tether  we  never  ascertained, 
probably  he  did  not.  In  any  case  it  would  have 
made  little  or  no  difference.  Instructions  had  been 
sent  to  all  ports  that  he  was  not  to  be  permitted  to 
leave  the  country. 

However,  he  came  to  London  willingly  enough,  cross¬ 
ing  from  Dublin  on  the  night  of  December  8th-gth. 
When  he  was  asked  to  give  an  explanation  of  his 
letters  to  Denis,  he  answered  that  he  did  not  know 


238 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

that  Denis  was  a  master  spy,  and  pretended  great 
astonishment  when  we  told  him  this  was  actually  so. 
His  story  was  that  he  had  written  to  him,  hoping  to 
sell  him  some  films.  But  he  completely  failed  to 
explain  to  our  satisfaction  why  he  had  written  to  a 
perfect  stranger  on  business  matters  without  in  the 
least  knowing  that  Denis  was  interested  in  films. 
Bacon’s  story  did  not  ring  true,  and  at  the  close  of 
his  interrogation  he  was  informed  by  the  authorities 
that  he  was  suspected  of  being  a  German  spy,  and 
would  be  detained  in  custody  pending  further 
investigation. 

****** 

It  is  a  tangled  mass  of  intrigue,  this  story  of  the 
American-hatched  spy  conspiracy  ;  we  were  only  just 
beginning  to  appreciate  its  ramifications. 

Much  about  the  same  time  that  Bacon  was  operating 
in  England  and  Holland,  Captain,  afterwards  Rear- 
Admiral,  Sir  Guy  Gaunt,  who  was  watching  our 
interests  in  the  United  States,  was  successful  in  inter¬ 
cepting  another  spy  on  his  way  to  this  country. 
This  man — there  is  no  need  to  give  his  name — turned 
informer,  and  to  save  his  skin  volunteered  full  details 
of  the  plot  which  he  had  become  involved  in.  He 
gave  us  full  particulars  of  the  Germans’  spy  organi¬ 
zation  in  New  York,  and  when  that  was  done  Sir 
Guy  sent  him  on  to  England.  Obviously,  he  had  a 
story  of  absorbing  interest  to  tell  us. 

It  would  appear  that  this  individual,  along  with 
other  American  journalists,  had  been  recruited  by  a 
German  master  spy,  well-known  to  us,  who  was  named, 
or  passed  under  the  name  of,  Sanders.  For  a  long 


George  Vaux  Bacon. 


L To  face  p.  238. 


A  Clever  Scheme 


239 


time  the  enemy  Secret  Service  had  cast  longing  eyes 
at  the  numerous  journalists  from  the  States  coming 
over  here,  and  eventually  made  strenuous  efforts  to 
suborn  some  of  them.  The  scheme  was  for  these 
journalists  to  come  to  England,  thence  to  Holland, 
where  they  would  make  their  reports  and  receive  the 
wages  of  their  spying,  and  so  on  to  America  again. 
The  scheme  was  certainly  quite  a  good  one.  Who 
was  to  suspect  a  visiting  American  journalist  of  being 
an  enemy  agent  ? 

All  the  information  we  received  from  the  man 
captured  in  America  tallied  with  Bacon’s  doings  in 
England.  We  were  told  that  Sanders,  in  America, 
was  closely  in  touch  with  one  of  the  numerous  asso¬ 
ciations  of  disaffected  Irishmen,  and  that  it  was  part 
of  the  itinerary  of  the  new  spy  scheme  that  a  visit 
should  be  paid  to  Ireland,  to  ascertain  what  were  the 
possibilities  of  further  trouble  there.  This  coincided 
with  the  letter  from  Professor  Kuno  Meyer. 

Further,  our  informant  told  us  that  Sanders  in¬ 
structed  his  journalist  spies  to  get  into  touch  with 
wounded  officers  fresh  back  from  the  front,  and  to 
get  their  views  on  the  war  and  the  moral  of  the  troops. 
It  all  fitted  in  with  Bacon’s  routine,  for  had  he  not 
been  seen  in  the  company  of  a  wounded  officer  of  the 
King’s  Royal  Rifles  ?  And  if  any  confirmation  were 
needed  as  to  the  ulterior  motive  of  Bacon’s  acquaint¬ 
ance,  it  was  surely  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  he 
suggested  to  this  officer  that  they  should  take  a  trip 
to  Scotland  together.  It  was  a  jig-saw  puzzle,  and 
we  were  fitting  the  pieces  together  very  nicely  indeed  : 
we  knew,  thanks  to  our  voluble  informant,  that  one 
of  the  items  of  news  which  Sanders  required  from  his 
highly-paid  spies  was  something  dealing  with  our 


240  German  Spies  at  Bay 

great  battleships,  the  Queen  Elizabeth,  the  Resolution, 
and  other  recently  built  classes.  It  was  quite  obvious 
that  in  no  other  place  but  Scotland  was  such  intelli¬ 
gence  to  be  gathered,  and  what  better  company 
could  he  have  than  that  of  a  wounded  British  officer  ? 
We  subsequently  learnt  that  Bacon  was  trying  to 
ascertain  the  winter  disposition  of  the  Grand  Fleet, 
as  well  as  the  spot  where  a  new  cable  from  Russia 
touched  British  shores. 

He  had  been  told  that  Bacon  had  been  provided 
with  a  wonderful  new  invisible  ink,  which  was  dis¬ 
guised  as  a  medical  mixture,  that  he  was  to  use  nothing 
but  ball-pointed  pens,  that  the  paper  was  to  be  un¬ 
glazed  and  sponged  with  a  weak  solution  of  ammonia 
before  being  written  on. 

Again,  we  learnt  that  under  the  new  system  spies 
leaving  New  York  received  a  thousand  dollars  as  a 
preliminary  for  expenses.  Also  did  we  glean  the  fact 
that  there  was  already  an  American  journalist  in 
London  doing  good  work  for  the  Germans  ;  his  name 
began  with  “  R.”  The  identity  of  that  individual 
was  no  great  mystery. 

****** 

The  game  of  Patience,  which  we  were  playing, 
was  working  out  wonderfully  well.  All  the  cards 
were  coming  up  in  their  appointed  places,  and  when 
we  searched  Bacon’s  belongings  any  possible  doubt 
of  his  complicity  in  enemy  espionage  vanished.  The 
ball-pointed  pens  were  found  amongst  his  stationery  ; 
his  ordinary  writing  appears  to  have  been  done  with 
a  green  quill,  of  which  he  was  inordinately  proud,  so 
much  so  that,  in  writing  to  his  friend  of  the  King’s 


Invisible  Inks 


241 


Royal  Rifles,  he  made  mention  of  having  specially 
purchased  it.  The  bottle  of  mixture  for  use  as 
invisible  ink  was  on  his  dressing-table :  his  note- 
paper  was  rough  and  unglazed. 

Even  more  incriminating  was  the  fact  that,  when 
he  returned  from  Holland  in  November,  he  was  in 
possession  of  a  draft  for  two  hundred  pounds,  issued  to 
him  on  October  19th.  His  stay  in  the  Netherlands  all 
lent  colour  to  the  supposition  that  during  that  time 
he  had  visited  the  German  spy  headquarters  at 
Antwerp,  for  there  were  gaps  in  his  stay  at  Amster¬ 
dam,  as  shown  by  the  hotel  bills  seized  in  his  luggage, 
which  showed  that  for  days  he  had  been  away  some¬ 
where.  In  his  notebook  was  found  the  address  of 
the  master  spy,  Denis  ;  an  attempt  had  been  made 
to  obliterate  it.  Why  ?  And  we  came  across  another 
clue  to  the  clandestine  activities  of  this  dangerous 
individual,  the  name  and  address  of  one  Van  der 
Kolk,  in  Rotterdam,  whom  we  had  known  for  twelve 
months  past  as  a  German  agent.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  instructions  had  been  given  months  before  that 
anyone  found  in  possession  of  Van  der  Kolk’s  address 
was  to  be  arrested. 

While  Bacon  was  under  arrest  we  had  intercepted 
a  letter  to  him  from  Rutherford,  in  Holland.  “  Wish 
old  ‘  C  ’  had  been  here  to  help  me  read  the  letter,” 
said  Rutherford.  Why  should  he  want  assistance  to 
read  any  letter,  unless  it  contained  writing  in  invisible 
ink  ? 

And,  psychologically,  Bacon’s  conduct  while  in 
England  gave  the  impression  that  he  had  embarked 
on  a  desperate  venture,  the  penalty  of  failure  being 
one  that  he  knew  only  too  well.  It  was  painfully 
familiar  to  us,  that  heavy  drinking  and  dissipation 

.  16 


242  German  Spies  at  Bay 

which  the  German  spies  indulged  in.  Always  there 
seemed  to  be  the  one  idea  of  having  an  enjoyable 
time  before  they  were  caught.  Bacon  himself  told 
us  that  he  had  taken  rooms  in  Jermyn  Street  in  order 
that  he  might  have  a  good  address.  What  he  did  not 
tell  us  was  that  he  had  been  turned  out  of  his  rooms 
there,  owing  to  his  habit  of  indulging  in  midnight 
orgies  with  companions  of  undesirable  character. 


*  *  *  *  *  * 


Any  shred  of  doubt  as  to  Bacon’s  guilt  which  we 
might  have  possessed  came  to  an  end  on  February 
3rd,  1917,  when  the  authorities  received  a  letter  from 
the  accused  man  in  Brixton  Prison.  It  ran  as  follows  : 
“  I  have  an  important  statement  to  make  to  someone 
in  authority.  If  it  is  possible  I  should  like  to  make  it 
with  as  little  loss  of  time  as  is  conveniently  possible.” 

An  officer  from  Scotland  Yard  was  sent  to  see  him, 
and  there  Bacon  said  that  he  had  come  to  the  con¬ 
clusion  that  he  would  feel  happier  if  he  were  permitted 
to  make  a  full  confession  of  his  connection  with  the 
German  Secret  Service.  An  amazing  story  it  proved, 
more  so  that  it  corroborated  in  full  all  the  grounds 
for  suspicion  which  we  had  entertained  ever  since 
the  letter  to  Denis  had  been  intercepted. 

Before  he  had  taken  to  the  dangerous  profession 
of  spy  he  had  been  the  New  York  publicity  repre¬ 
sentative  of  a  well-known  firm  of  moving  picture 
producers.  While  in  his  office  one  day  he  was  tele¬ 
phoned  to  by  a  man  whom  he  knew  to  be  a  foreigner 
of  some  kind — Bacon  thought  he  was  a  Bohemian, 
which  might  mean  anything — asking  whether  he 


A  Recruiting  Episode  243 

would  care  to  go  to  Europe.  “  What  for  ?  ”  was  the 
reply.  “  Well,”  answered  the  voice  at  the  other  end 
of  the  line,  "it  is  very  special  work,  for  which  you 
will  be  well  paid.”  Bacon  said  he  was  nothing  loath, 
so  the  Bohemian  told  him  to  go  along  to  a  certain 
office  in  New  York,  where  he  would  meet  someone  of 
the  name  of  Davis. 

What  actually  passed  between  Bacon  and  Davis 
remains  untold,  except  the  fact  that  Davis,  whose 
real  name  was  Charles  Winnenberg,  asked  him  if  he 
were  prepared  to  make  a  trip  to  England,  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  information  which  would  be 
useful  to  the  German  Government.  Davis  said  that 
the  Germans  wanted  some  particulars  of  our  anti¬ 
aircraft  defence,  the  movements  and  moral  of  our 
troops,  the  actual  whereabouts  of  the  British  squadrons 
in  Scottish  waters,  and  anything  he  might  be  able 
to  get  hold  of  concerning  our  new  battleships.  When 
Bacon  suggested  to  him  that  spies  received  but  o 
short  shrift  in  England,  Davis  remarked  scornfully, 
“  Pooh,  they  have  only  caught  two  or  three,  and  they 
were  all  fools.  There  will  be  no  suspicion  that  you 
are  a  spy.  We  will  pay  you  twenty-five  pounds  a 
week,  and  give  you  liberal  expenses.” 

For  some  considerable  time  the  pair  talked  matters 
over,  at  the  end  of  which  Bacon  agreed  to  go.  Then 
Davis  became  confidential  and  told  him  that  he  was 
to  go  to  London  first,  where  an  agent  of  his,  known 

as  Robert  W - ,  had  already  sent  him  several 

valuable  reports.  Davis  gave  him  particulars  of  the 
people  in  Holland  to  whom  he  was  to  send  his  reports, 
adding  that  there  were  three  or  four  Americans  in 
that  country  who  would  relay  his  messages  if  neces¬ 
sary.  “  But  how  will  I  get  these  messages  through  ?  ” 

16* 


244  German  Spies  at  Bay 

asked  Bacon  doubtingly.  “  Surely  the  British  censor 
will  see  them.” 

“  No,  no,”  replied  the  master  spy,  “  we  know 
something  much  better  than  that.  When  you  have 
arranged  about  your  passport  I  will  give  you  the 
secret  of  fooling  the  censor.” 

There  was  little  difficulty  about  the  passport. 
Being  quite  well-known  in  New  York,  Bacon  went  to 
see  the  Central  Press,  and,  telling  them  that  he  was 
going  to  Europe  on  business,  asked  whether  they 
would  like  a  representative  there.  He  was  willing,  so 
he  said,  to  collect  war  pictures  for  them,  on  com¬ 
mission  ;  they  need  not  trouble  about  expenses. 
Naturally  enough,  the  Central  Press  were  only  too 
delighted  to  get  such  a  smart  young  man  as  George 
Vaux  Bacon  to  represent  them  in  Europe  on  so  profit¬ 
able  a  basis,  and  readily  acquiesced  in  his  suggestion 
that  on  his  passport  he  should  state  that  he  was 
travelling  in  Europe  on  behalf  of  the  Central  Press. 

With  that  trouble  off  his  mind  Bacon  went  to  see 
Davis  again.  The  master  spy  was  greatly  pleased 
with  his  protege’s  progress,  and  congratulated  him  on 
the  enterprise  he  was  showing. 

“  Now,  have  you  got  a  pair  of  black  woollen  socks  ?  ” 
he  asked. 

Bacon  stared  in  astonishment.  “  Good  gracious, 
no,”  was  his  reply.  “  I  have  plenty  of  fancy  socks, 
but  nothing  in  plain  black.” 

“  Well,  go  and  buy  a  pair  at  once.” 

Obedience  being  second  nature  to  him,  Bacon 
duly  went  downstairs,  and  in  a  shop  close  by  pur¬ 
chased  a  pair  of  socks  for  a  dollar.  When  he  returned 
Davis  produced  a  collapsible  tube  similar  to  that 
used  for  holding  tooth  paste. 


The  Great  Ink 


245 


“  Give  me  your  socks,”  he  said.  Bacon  handed 
them  over,  and  with  wondering  eyes  watched  Davis 
squeeze  out  of  the  tube  a  thick  brown  liquid.  This 
he  smeared  all  round  the  tops  of  the  socks. 

“  There,”  he  said  gloatingly ;  “  that  is  a  secret 
ink  which  the  English  will  never  discover.  When 
you  write  a  letter  to  Holland  with  your  reports,  soak 
the  top  of  these  socks  in  water  and  use  the  fluid  as 
ink.  You  will  need  to  use  a  ball-pointed  pen  and  a 
hard,  rough  paper,  so  that  the  ink  will  not  run.  We 
will  give  these  before  you  leave.  Whenever  you  write 
a  report  you  must  mark  it  ‘  M,’  so  that  those  who 
receive  it  in  Holland  will  know  it  is  for  ‘  Marina,’ 
Antwerp.  That  is  the  only  place  which  knows  how 
to  develop  the  ink  :  even  in  the  Wilhelmstrasse  they 
they  do  not  know  the  secret.” 

Everything  passed  off  smoothly.  Bacon  was  given 
a  thousand-dollar  bill  as  preliminary  expenses,  and 
told  that  he  could  spend  as  much  as  he  liked.  If  he 
got  good  information  he  would  be  treated  very 
liberally  on  his  return. 

It  is  extremely  difficult  to  arrive  at  any  reliable 
idea  of  what  Bacon’s  intentions  actually  were.  He 
arrived  in  England  early  in  September,  and  in 
pursuance  of  the  plan  to  pump  British  officers, 
especially  those  fresh  back  from  the  Front,  he  picked 
up  many  acquaintances  in  the  lounges  and  smoking- 
rooms  of  the  Strand  hotels,  which  were  then  so 
popular.  Very  shortly  after  he  had  come  here  he 
struck  up  a  warm  friendship  with  the  officer  of  the 
King’s  Royal  Rifles  whom  I  have  previously  men¬ 
tioned.  In  fairness  to  this  officer,  it  must  be  stated 
that  he  did  not  possess  the  remotest  conception  of 
Bacon’s  true  mission,  and  readily  accepted  him  for 


246 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

what  he  professed  to  be,  the  European  representative 
of  an  American  house  anxious  to  buy  war  films.  The 
friendship  ripened,  so  much  so  that  the  officer  asked 
Bacon  if  he  would  care  to  come  down  to  Worcester¬ 
shire  and  stay  a  few  days  with  his  fiancee’s  people. 
Bacon  accepted  willingly  enough,  but  said  that  he 
must  go  over  to  Holland  on  business  first.  When  he 
returned  he  would  go  with  pleasure. 

The  spy’s  confession  of  his  activities  in  England 
proved  that  he  had  not  wasted  his  time.  He  told 
us  that  he  had  written  two  or  three  letters  to  Holland 
with  the  new  secret  ink  ;  but  they  dealt  only  with 
general  matters,  which  might  have  been  obtained 
from  any  newspaper.  He  told  us  the  old,  old  story 
that  we  had  heard  so  often — that  he  had  not  intended 
to  give  the  Germans  anything  of  value,  and  merely 
wrote  letters  to  get  his  money.  When  he  made  the 
trip  to  Holland,  on  September  25th,  he  was  nearly  at 
the  end  of  his  financial  resources,  a  statement  which 
was  true  enough,  as  was  proved  by  his  possession  of 
a  draft  issued  in  Holland  for  two  hundred  pounds  on 
return.  In  one  of  these  precious  missives  to  the 
Germans  he  gave  them  the  information  that  he  had 
made  a  friend  of  a  British  officer  (the  K.R.R.  man), 
who  was  a  cousin  of  Earl  Kitchener  ! 

Like  all  spies,  Bacon  was  attempting  to  bluff  both 
ways.  We  knew  a  good  deal  more  about  his  plans 
in  England  than  he  thought.  One  of  them  was  to 
make  his  officer  friend  a  representative  of  “  C.,”  who, 
Bacon  alleged,  was  the  American  representative  of  a 
big  shipping  firm.  Bacon’s  suggestion  was  that  the 
officer,  who  was  being  invalided  out  of  the  service, 
should  be  appointed  as  “  C.’s  ”  representative  at 
Dover,  where  he  was  to  handle  Bills  of  Lading  and 


A  Specious  Defence  247 

arrange  for  the  import  of  food  cargoes  into  Holland. 
For  this  “  C  ”  would  pay  him  a  salary  of  two  thousand 
pounds  a  year.  Like  so  many  foreigners,  Bacon  fell 
down  on  details  ;  he  apparently  did  not  know  that 
Dover  was  a  naval  port,  closed  to  all  commerce.  What 
he  really  wanted  the  officer  for  was  to  use  him  as  an 
unconscious  spy. 

Something  else  was  revealed,  owing  to  a  letter  found 
in  his  possession.  It  was  from  a  charming  English 
girl,  written  from  the  rectory  in  Worcestershire  where 
he  had  stayed  with  his  officer  friend,  and  it  referred 
to  the  writer  obtaining  a  post  in  the  British  censor¬ 
ship.  It  would  seem  that  Bacon  was  not  above  employ¬ 
ing  innocent  girls  to  assist  him  in  his  shameful  work  : 
probably  he  thought  that  someone  who  was  at  the 
censorship  would  be  able  to  give  him  some  hints  which 
would  be  useful  to  his  scoundrelly  employers. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

With  all  the  foregoing  facts  in  their  possession,  the 
authorities  had  no  hesitation  in  deciding  to  place 
George  Vaux  Bacon  on  trial  by  court-martial.  This 
took  place  on  March  17th,  1917.  There  was  no  defence, 
in  view  of  the  confession,  and  counsel,  briefed  by  the 
United  States  Government,  could  only  say  that  his 
client  threw  himself  on  the  mercy  of  the  Court. 
Counsel  stated,  on  Bacon’s  behalf,  that  he  could 
trace  his  descent  back  to  1644,  and  that  his  father’s 
family  had  fled  to  America  after  the  battle  of  Marston 
Moor.  His  mother’s  family,  it  was  said,  had  been 
compelled  to  flee  from  France  at  the  time  the  Edict 
of  Nantes  had  been  pronounced.  Of  Bacon  himself, 
counsel  stated  that  he  was  a  Bachelor  of  Arts  in 


248 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

America,  and  had  yielded  to  a  sudden  temptation  to 
make  money  easily.  It  was  all  very  interesting, 
but  no  answer  to  such  a  serious  charge,  and  the  Court 
had  no  hesitation  in  sentencing  him  to  death  by 
hanging. 

****** 

Bacon  never  paid  the  supreme  penalty  for  his 
crime,  richly  as  he  deserved  it.  The  coming  entrance 
of  the  United  States  into  the  war  brought  about  the 
idea  that  it  would  be  infinitely  preferable  that  the 
condemned  spy’s  life  should  be  spared,  for  the  pur¬ 
pose  of  using  him  as  a  witness  in  the  wholesale  arrests 
which  were  then  taking  place  in  the  States. 

Our  authorities  decided  to  agree  to  this  suggestion. 
Bacon  was  accordingly  reprieved,  and  sent  back  to 
New  York  in  the  S.S.  Cedric,  under  arrest.  As  a 
preliminary,  the  United  States  Government  charged 
him  with  a  breach  of  the  neutrality  laws.  He  was 
sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  a  year  and  a  day,  and 
while  serving  the  term  gave  evidence  against  the 
German  master  spies,  who  for  nearly  three  years 
had  so  shamefully  abused  the  hospitality  of  the 
Americans.  That  was  not  the  last  we  heard  of  the 
volatile  Bacon,  however.  Some  few  months  later, 
while  he  was  still  in  prison,  he  wrote  a  most  cheerful 
letter  to  a  friend  in  England,  full  of  hopes  to  meet 
him  in  the  future,  and  asking  him  to  try  and  forward 
the  balance  of  the  money  received  from  his  German 
paymasters  ! 

There  were  many  spies  throughout  the  war  for 
whom  one  could  feel  sorrow,  but  those  of  the  hireling 
type,  like  Bacon,  could  engender  nothing  but  a  feeling 


Our  Fortunate  Escape  249 

of  nausea.  He  was  of  British  descent :  he  did  not 
even  possess  the  saving  excuse  of  being  German  in 
origin.  He  can  go  through  life  congratulating  himself 
on  having  passed  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death.  There  are  not  many  nations  in  this  world 
who  would  have  spared  a  man’s  life  under  such 
circumstances. 

****** 

In  time  our  counter-espionage  service  was  able 
to  piece  together  the  full  details  of  this  dangerous 
conspiracy.  The  arrest  and  conviction  of  Winnen- 
berg,  alias  Davis,  and  Sanders  in  New  York,  along 
with  the  remainder  of  the  great  spy  organization 
built  up  by  Count  Bernstorff  and  Von  Rintelen,  gave 
us  the  opportunity  of  learning  the  extent  to  which 
the  German  Secret  Service  had  spread  its  meshes 
during  the  war. 

Winnenberg  made  a  complete  confession  of  all  he 
had  done.  Probably  his  story  contained  many  lies  ; 
some  of  the  instances  he  gave  of  foreign  Legations 
and  Embassies  being  inculpated  with  the  Germans 
were  too  amazing  to  be  true.  Winnenberg  told  us 

the  true  history  of  the  Bacon-Rutherford-W - 

arrangement,  which,  in  view  of  the  international 
importance  of  the  case,  is  worth  giving  fully. 

As  originally  planned,  Rutledge  Rutherford  came 
to  England  as  an  American  journalist,  whose  special 
mission  was  to  write  articles  on  the  food  situation 
in  Europe,  for  publication  in  the  American  Press. 
No  suspicion  appears  to  have  been  aroused  by  his 
presence  in  London.  To  obtain  the  information 
required  by  the  Germans  he  hit  upon  an  idea  which 


250 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

was  certainly  clever.  He  made  the  acquaintance  of 
the  head  of  one  of  the  Army  Cookery  Schools,  and 
sedulously  pumped  that  individual  on  matters  of 
military  importance. 

Exactly  what  intelligence  of  value  Rutherford 
succeeded  in  getting  out  of  the  country  we  never 
learnt.  In  his  guise  of  American  newspaper  corre¬ 
spondent  he  made  frequent  trips  to  and  from  Holland, 
where  doubtless  he  met  the  master  spies  and  was 
taken  by  them  to  Antwerp.  Rutherford  was  no  fool. 
About  August,  1916,  he  must  have  arrived  at  the 
conclusion  that  it  was  no  use  tempting  Providence 
too  long,  and  succeeded  in  persuading  the  Germans 
that  it  would  be  better  to  allow  him  to  act  as  a  chief 
agent  in  Holland,  to  deal  with  other  American  journa¬ 
lists  coming  across  in  the  enemy  interest.  This  he 
appears  to  have  done  until  such  time  as  America 
ranged  herself  on  the  side  of  the  Allies.  What  ulti¬ 
mately  became  of  him  remains  a  complete  mystery ; 
probably  he  has  gone  to  Germany.  Certainly  he  will 
get  a  warm  welcome  if,  and  when,  he  returns  to  his 
native  land. 

We  could  never  lay  our  hands  on  Rutledge  Ruther¬ 
ford,  hard  as  we  tried.  Several  journalists  from  Hol¬ 
land,  en  route  to  the  States,  were  detained  on  suspicion 
of  being  Rutherford,  but  each  time  we  drew  blank. 
Could  we  have  laid  him  by  the  heels  he  would  have 
finished  his  earthly  career  with  a  rope  round  his  neck. 
The  ineffable  impudence  of  this  brazen  scoundrel  was 
only  revealed  to  the  full  some  months  after  the 
whole  conspiracy  had  been  known  to  us.  While  in 
Holland,  he  had  written  six  articles  on  the  inter¬ 
national  food  question  for  a  well-known  Radical  news¬ 
paper.  The  arrangement  was  that  he  should  receive 


Some  of  the  Accomplices  251 

six  guineas  for  each.  The  articles  were  published  in 
perfectly  good  faith  by  the  paper  in  question,  but  came 
to  a  sudden  end  when  the  authorities  drew  the  atten¬ 
tion  of  the  editor  to  the  fact  that  the  writer  was 
suspected  of  being  a  German  spy. 

After  Bacon  had  been  convicted,  Rutherford  wrote 
from  Holland  asking  for  payment  for  the  articles. 
He  said  that  he  supposed  the  arrangement  of  six 
guineas  an  article  would  be  remembered,  but,  in  any 
case,  if  it  were  not,  he  would  be  pleased  to  take  what 
the  editor  considered  a  fair  remuneration.  The  letter 
was  sent  on  to  our  authorities  to  ask  if  the  request 
for  payment  should  be  acceded  to.  “  Yes,”  said  the 
official  concerned,  “  tell  him  he  can  have  the  money 
if  he  comes  to  England.” 

Another  gentleman  whom  we  should  like  to  have 
interviewed  was  Robert  W - ,  but  he,  too,  suc¬ 

ceeded  in  getting  across  to  Holland.  Probably  he  is 
wandering  about  Europe  in  company  with  Rutherford. 
Still  another  member  of  the  fraternity  came  our  way  in 
one  I  will  call  “  H,”  who  was  brought  ashore  from  a 
neutral  steamer.  This  individual  never  landed  in 
England,  so,  in  consideration  of  his  giving  us  his  ver¬ 
sion  of  the  German  spy  organization,  he  was  permitted 
to  continue  his  journey  home. 

In  January,  1917,  we  had  occasion  to  detain  another 
American  journalist,  whom  we  had  every  reason  to 
suspect  was  an  emissary  of  Winnenberg.  It  proved 
extremely  difficult  to  secure  any  evidence,  however, 
and  after  a  good  many  examinations  “  M,”  as  I 
shall  designate  him,  was  sent  back  to  America,  with 
the  parting  salutation  that  he  would  be  arrested  if  he 
ever  attempted  to  land  in  England  again. 

I  would  like  it  clearly  understood  that,  throughout 


252 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

all  the  trouble  which  resulted  from  the  attempt  to 
make  American  journalism  the  tool  of  the  German 
Secret  Service,  no  suspicion  ever  attached  itself  to 
the  great  majority  of  the  many  writers  from  the  States 
who  were  granted  facilities  to  see  what  we  were 
actually  doing.  It  was  only  the  few  I  have  mentioned 
who  took  advantage  of  our  hospitality  to  play  the 
German  spy,  and,  whatever  their  sympathies  may 
have  been,  they  were  clearly  guilty  of  conduct  which 
can  only  be  described  as  infamous.  Their  behaviour 
was  much  worse  than  that  of  the  other  hireling  spies 
sent  by  the  enemy,  for  these  individuals  entered  the 
country  unasked  and  unwanted.  But  the  Americans 
came  here  nominally  as  guests  ;  the  thought  that 
they  would  betray  us  did  not  enter  our  head  until 
some  time  after  the  arrival  of  Bacon,  when  we  ob¬ 
tained  incontestable  proof  that  he  and  several  others 
were  in  close  touch  with  the  German  agents  who 
were  then  flooding  Holland  and  Belgium. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

There  remains  only  one  phase  of  this  extraordinary 
incident  of  the  war  which  is  worthy  of  mention.  It 
is  that  of  the  secret  ink  which  Bacon  brought  with  him 
from  America.  There  is  no  harm  in  saying  now  that 
this  was  easily  the  best  ink  for  writing  invisibly 
which  came  our  way  during  the  war  :  very  exhaustive 
experiments  had  to  be  carried  out  before  we  could 
discover  the  developer.  And  even  when  that  had  been 
done,  the  writing,  when  revealed,  faded  so  quickly 
that  it  was  impossible  to  make  the  hidden  message 
permanent.  However,  being  of  a  persevering  turn  of 
mind,  we  eventually  found  something  which  would 


A  Relic  of  the  War 


253 


fix  the  ink,  once  it  was  shown  up,  and  thereby  drove 
another  nail  in  the  coffin  of  the  fast-decaying  enemy 
spy  organization. 

Shortly  after  Bacon  had  been  dealt  with,  the  King 
and  Queen  paid  a  visit  to  the  Postal  Censorship. 
While  in  the  building  it  was  suggested  that  their 
Majesties  might  like  to  write  their  names  with  the 
now  famous  ink.  This  was  done,  and  the  ink  developed 
while  they  waited.  The  signatures  came  up  brown, 
with  the  ink  having  spread  a  little,  but  they  were 
perfectly  legible.  The  paper  on  which  they  were 
written  was  framed,  and  now  hangs  on  the  study  wall 
of  one  of  the  principal  officials  of  the  counter-espionage 
service,  a  much-treasured  memento  of  one  of  the  most 
absorbing  phases  of  the  war. 


CHAPTER  XV 


Alfred  Hagn,  spy  and  artist — The  spy  who  was  afraid — Invisible 
inks  and  how  they  were  used— The  Ruhleben  prisoner  who 
offered  to  guide  Zeppelins — Professor  Kuno  Meyer’s  fair 
correspondent. 

Spying  is  not  a  savoury  business,  even  at  the  best 
of  times.  Perhaps  it  may  be  excused  on  the  score  of 
being  a  necessary  evil,  although  to  this  argument  one 
might  truthfully  reply  that  two  wrongs  do  not  con¬ 
stitute  a  right. 

However,  there  it  is.  All  the  great  nations  of  the 
world  maintain  a  Secret  Service  of  some  kind  ;  they 
would  find  themselves  left  hopelessly  behind  in  the 
never-ceasing  struggle  for  pride  of  place  did  they  not 
do  so.  Exactly  what  reliable  information  is  obtained 
by  espionage  is  another  matter  entirely  ;  history  will 
never  tell  us  whether  the  course  of  the  great  European 
War  was  in  any  way  influenced  by  the  different  intelli¬ 
gence  organizations  of  the  belligerent  nations.  Prob¬ 
ably  it  would  be  true  to  say  that  Germany  gained 
no  ultimate  advantage  by  the  tremendous  network 
of  spies  she  had  thrown  around  Europe.  Bolshevik 
Russia,  which,  according  to  General  von  Ludendorff, 
was  brought  into  being  by  German  gold  and  German 
spies,  reacted  to  the  detriment  of  the  Germans  ;  while 
it  is  also  an  unquestionable  fact  that  the  outrageous 
conduct  of  the  German  Embassy  in  the  United  States, 
the  open  violation  of  the  neutrality  of  the  country, 
the  constant  acts  of  sabotage  which  were  engineered 
by  a  special  gang,  did  a  great  deal  to  estrange  any  ten 

254 


The  Reward  of  Patience 


255 


dency  to  stand  aloof  which  might,  or  might  not,  have 
had  the  result  of  keeping  the  Americans  out  of  the 
war.  Similarly,  the  happenings  in  South  America 
completely  alienated  the  sympathy  of  countries  like 
Brazil  and  the  Argentine  Republic. 

The  war  revealed  one  outstanding  fact  :  that  the 
Germans,  with  all  their  boasted  culture,  were  exceed¬ 
ingly  bad  judges  of  psychology.  They  did  not  appear 
to  realize  the  effect  on  the  world  at  large  of  their 
many  disgraceful  violations  of  the  international  code. 

It  would  probably  be  correct  to  say  that  the  Germans 
reaped  a  certain  temporary  advantage  from  intel¬ 
ligence  gained  by  their  spies  in  France.  The  con¬ 
tiguity  of  French  soil  made  the  passing  to  and  fro  of 
spies  a  comparatively  simple  matter  as  compared 
with  England.  And  the  Germans  knew  it :  they 
offered  people  willing  to  act  as  agents  in  France  one- 
third  of  the  amount  which  was  paid  to  spies  coming 
to  England.  France  was  in  an  unfortunate  geo¬ 
graphical  position  as  regards  accessibility  to  espionage. 
She  was  exposed  to  enemy  agents  from  Germany  and 
Belgium,  from  Spain  and  from  Switzerland.  How¬ 
ever,  she  lived  through  it  all,  and  after  nearly  fifty 
years  of  waiting  has  seen  the  aggression  of  the  war  of 
1870  more  than  repaid. 

****** 

I  suppose  there  are  many  people  who  would  not  feel 
the  slightest  compassion  for  a  spy  ;  they  would  say 
that  he  enters  his  precarious  profession  fully  aware 
of  the  penalty  to  be  paid  for  failure.  But  from  time 
to  time  during  the  war  we  came  across  a  good  many 
instances  where  some  unfortunate  individual,  hard 
put  to  earn  a  living,  had  been  tempted  to  turn  spy. 


256 


German1*  Spies  at  Bay 

Such  a  one  was  surely  Alfred  Hagn,  a  young  Nor¬ 
wegian,  whom  we  arrested  on  May  24th,  1917. 

In  a  way,  Hagn  was  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
personalities  who  came  to  England  in  the  capacity 
of  enemy  agent.  He  had  written  novels,  painted 
Futurist  pictures,  and  generally  dabbled  in  the 
hundred-and-one  Bohemian  occupations  which  greatly 
flatter  the  self-esteem  of  certain  people,  but  rarely 
result  in  any  adequate  remuneration.  When  captured 
by  us,  he  was  passing  as  a  Norwegian  journalist. 
Evidently  at  that  time  the  German  Secret  Service 
was  pinning  all  its  hopes  on  the  Fourth  Estate  as  a 
means  of  obtaining  information. 

Hagn’s  beginning  as  a  German  agent  dates  from 
1916.  About  that  time  he  had  returned  from  America, 
more  or  less  penniless,  his  efforts  at  convincing  the 
practical  Americans  of  the  value  of  his  paintings 
having  apparently  failed.  It  was  subsequently  told 
us  that  Hagn’s  parents  were  greatly  to  blame  for  his 
misspent  life ;  they  had  educated  him  above  his 
station  in  life,  which  was  quite  a  humble  one.  The 
boy  grew  up  with  the  idea  that  he  was  destined  to  be 
a  great  artist,  and  spent  over  thirty  years  of  his  life 
trying  to  prove  it. 

In  the  autumn  of  1916,  when  he  was  making 
desperate  endeavours  to  dispose  of  some  of  his  pic¬ 
tures,  he  came  into  contact  with  two  Germans,  one  a 
painter  named  Lavendel,  the  other  a  member  of  the 
German  Secret  Service,  who  called  himself  Harthem. 
Hagn  began  telling  them  of  his  struggle  to  earn 
money,  and  it  was  then  jokingly  suggested  to  him  that 
he  should  become  a  German  agent  in  England. 

The  young  Norwegian  refused  to  entertain  the  idea 
for  a  time,  but,  meeting  Harthern  again,  that  individual 


A  Keen-witted  Italian  257 

brought  it  up,  and  said  that  if  he,  Hagn,  went  over 
in  the  guise  of  a  correspondent  for  a  Norwegian  paper 
he  was  not  in  the  least  likely  to  be  suspected.  Thus 
it  was  eventually  arranged.  Hagn  approached  the 
editor  of  a  daily  paper,  and,  stating  that  he  had  to  go 
to  England  on  other  business,  offered  to  act  as  special 
correspondent  for  him.  The  low  price  he  suggested 
as  payment  for  the  articles  he  was  to  write,  together 
with  the  absence  of  any  talk  of  expenses,  probably  had 
something  to  do  with  the  editor’s  acquiescence.  What¬ 
ever  the  reason,  Hagn  duly  came  to  England  on 
October  ioth,  1916,  and  during  a  stay  of  some  weeks 
evoked  no  suspicion.  He  wrote  a  few  articles  for 
the  Norwegian  paper.  Probably  this  trip  was  in  the 
nature  of  a  reconnaissance,  for  none  of  his  correspond¬ 
ence  was  intercepted,  nor  had  we  been  given  any 
reason  to  suspect  any  of  the  addresses  to  which  he 
was  writing. 

He  returned  to  Norway  about  the  end  of  the  year, 
and  for  a  time  resisted  the  blandishments  of  the 
German  agents,  who  congratulated  him  on  the  clever¬ 
ness  with  which  he  had  arranged  everything.  But  it 
was  only  a  matter  of  time  when  money  began  to  run 
short  again,  and  when  that  happened  he  notified  his 
friends  that  he  was  willing  to  make  another  trip. 

So  far  nothing  had  happened  to  arouse  our  doubts, 
and  when  he  arrived  on  April  13th,  1917,  he  was  per¬ 
mitted  to  land  without  question.  But  fortune  was 
not  to  be  so  kind  to  him  on  this  occasion. 

When  he  got  to  London  he  went  to  stay  at  a  private 
hotel  in  Tavistock  Square,  W.C.  He  behaved  very 
curiously  all  the  time  he  was  at  the  hotel,  and  a  keen 
little  Italian  professor,  greatly  interested  in  psychology, 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  from  his  preoccupied  air 

it 

1 7 


258 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Hagn  had  something  on  his  mind  which  was  worrying 
him  a  good  deal.  He  never  spoke  to  anybody, 
although  his  English  was  excellent,  and  the  Professor 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  his  secretiveness  was 
but  a  cloak  to  his  real  mission  of  being  a  German  spy. 

There  was  a  humorous  interlude  in  the  life  of  Hagn 
at  the  Bloomsbury  hotel.  It  was  created  by  a  smart 
recruiting  officer,  who,  apparently  not  knowing  Hagn’s 
nationality,  sent  him  a  notice  calling  him  to  join  the 
Colours  forthwith.  It  was  probably  the  most  wonder¬ 
ful  chance  that  particular  officer  ever  got  of  distin¬ 
guishing  himself,  for  the  spy  came  to  his  office  to 
explain  that  he  was  a  Norwegian  subject,  and  could 
not  possibly  be  held  liable  for  service.  But  he  was 
liable  for  something  else,  although  the  officer  certainly 
had  no  reason  to  suspect  it. 

Hagn’s  strange  conduct  in  the  hotel,  his  perpetual 
moodiness,  so  played  on  the  feelings  of  the  Italian 
professor  that  he  eventually  went  to  the  nearest 
police  station,  and  there  stated  that  he  had  reason 
to  believe  there  was  a  German  spy  staying  in  his 
hotel.  All  the  police  stations  in  the  Bloomsbury  dis¬ 
trict  had  heard  this  supposition  many  times  during 
the  war,  but,  in  no  wise  discouraged,  they  promised  the 
Professor  that  they  would  look  into  the  matter. 

The  counter-espionage  authorities  were  notified,  and 
Hagn’s  reasons  for  his  presence  in  England  gone  into. 
The  result  of  this  was  that  his  correspondence  came 
under  surveillance,  without,  however,  bringing  any¬ 
thing  incriminating  to  light.  But  we  had  reason  to 
believe  that  he  was  using  a  new  secret  ink  ;  the  trouble 
was  to  get  hold  of  some  of  it. 

The  subsequent  happenings  were  quite  exciting. 
An  officer  was  detailed  to  stay  at  the  hotel  in  Tavistock 


259 


Caught  in  the  Act 

Square,  to  get  into  conversation  with  Hagn,  and,  if 
possible,  to  get  hold,  by  hook  or  crook,  of  the  secret 
ink  he  was  using.  This  plan  succeeded  well  enough 
for  a  time  ;  the  officer  became  quite  friendly  with  the 
spy,  without  in  any  way  learning  anything  beyond  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  journalist  acting  as  English  cor¬ 
respondent  for  two  Norwegian  newspapers. 

But  one  day  the  great  chance  arrived.  Hagn  had 
gone  out  for  the  afternoon  ;  the  officer  watched  him  go 
down  the  street  and  then  slipped  up  to  his  bedroom, 
the  door  of  which  was  unlocked.  A  hasty  look  round 
the  room  did  not  augur  well  for  finding  the  much- 
wanted  ink.  Suddenly  the  officer  saw  a  bottle  on  the 
washstand  labelled  “  throat  gargle.”  “  This  must  be 
it,”  he  thought,  and,  hastily  uncorking  a  small  bottle 
he  had  brought  for  the  purpose,  poured  in  a  little  of 
the  liquid.  It  was  quite  colourless,  and  might  have 
been  anything.  Softly  opening  the  door,  he  stepped 
into  the  corridor.  And  there  bad  luck  befell  him.  One 
of  the  maidservants  was  coming  along.  She  gave 
him  a  most  suspicious  look,  for  Hagn  was  well  known 
in  the  hotel. 

“  What  were  you  doing  in  that  room  ?  ”  she  asked. 

“  Oh,  Mr.  Hagn  asked  me  to  put  a  bottle  of  medicine 
in  there  for  him,”  was  the  guilty  answer. 

“  Where  is  it  ?  ”  countered  the  by-no-means  appeased 
girl. 

“  There,  on  the  washstand,”  opening  the  door  and 
showing  the  girl  the  bottle. 

“  Um,  all  right,”  said  the  maid  dubiously,  in  a  tone 
which  meant  as  plainly  as  possible  that  she  meant  to 
tell  Hagn  on  his  return.  With  tingling  ears  the  officer 
went  off  downstairs.  Like  a  wise  man,  he  at  once 
communicated  with  his  superiors,  and  told  them  what 

17* 


260 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

had  happened.  They  agreed  with  his  suggestion  that 
it  would  be  better  for  him  to  leave  the  hotel  at  once, 
certainly  before  Hagn  could  get  back.  It  was  ob¬ 
viously  impossible  to  explain  to  the  proprietress  of 
the  hotel,  even  less  so  to  the  maid,  that  Hagn  was 
a  spy.  So  under  the  circumstances  the  authorities 
made  the  best  of  a  bad  job,  and  hurried  along  with 
an  analysis  of  the  captured  ink. 

It  was  ink  for  invisible  writing,  sure  enough.  With 
that  fact  established,  we  decided  to  arrest  the  spy 
before  he  became  thoroughly  alarmed,  so,  on  May  24th, 
a  party  of  police  took  their  way  to  Tavistock  Square, 
and  there  took  Hagn  into  custody  on  a  charge  of 
espionage.  The  Norwegian  took  his  arrest  quite 
calmly  ;  from  his  dejected  attitude  one  could  surmise 
that  he  was  quite  expecting  it.  When  his  room  came  to 
be  searched,  the  remainder  of  the  “  throat  gargle  ”  was 
found,  also  some  pieces  of  cotton  wool  bearing  traces 
of  ammonia,  which  the  Germans  told  their  spies  to 
use  before  writing  on  the  specially-provided  paper. 

Hagn  ultimately  made  a  complete  confession  when 
taxed  with  his  guilt.  Like  all  the  spies,  he  first  made 
an  attempt  to  lie  his  way  out  of  the  accusation,  and 
told  us  a  circumstantial  story  of  his  “  throat  gargle  ” 
Having  been  specially  prepared  for  him  by  a  Norwegian 
chemist. 

“  What  is  the  matter  with  your  throat  ?  ”  we  asked. 

“  I  suffer  from  chronic  bronchial  catarrh,”  was 
the  reply. 

“  And  have  you  used  this  liquid  ?  ”  we  inquired 
next.  Hagn  said  he  had. 

“  I  suggest  to  you  it  is  a  secret  ink,”  his  interrogator 
said.  Hagn  replied  that  if  it  was  he  had  no  knowledge 
of  the  fact.  “  But  you  have  been  writing  invisible 


A  Spy’s  Mother  261 

messages  with  it,”  we  told  him.  “  We  have  had  your 
letters  tested.” 

It  all  came  out  in  the  end,  especially  after  we  had 
questioned  him  as  to  his  earnings  from  journalism. 
He  admitted  that  he  had  only  written  two  or  three 
articles,  for  which  he  was  to  get  something  like  two 
pounds  apiece.  When  we  asked  how  he  lived  on  that 
he  could  not  answer,  and,  after  trying  to  bluff  a  little 
longer,  suddenly  told  us  the  whole  wretched  story. 

He  said  that  he  had  not  given  the  Germans  any 
information  of  importance,  for  the  simple  reason  that 
he  had  not  been  able  to  obtain  any.  In  proof  of  his 
contention  that  he  was  not  hostile  to  us  he  produced 
an  article  he  had  written,  part  of  which  read  : 

“  The  people  of  the  Island  and  the  Colonies  are 
like  one  body,  physically  and  mentally,  still  full  of 
vitality  and  undaunted  in  temperament.  I  am  in  a 
good  position  to  observe  this,  but  cannot  for  the 
moment  do  so.” 

The  tribute  to  our  moral  was  quite  a  nice  one,  and 
would  probably  have  done  us  no  harm  had  it  reached 
the  Germans.  However,  that  was  not  the  point. 
Hagn  also  informed  us  that  one  of  the  things  he  had 
been  requested  to  obtain  was  some  particulars  of  our 
misuse  of  hospital  ships.  Evidently  the  Germans 
were  still  anxious  to  sink  boats  carrying  wounded 
troops.  Amongst  other  things  he  had  made  applica¬ 
tion  for  permission  to  visit  the  Western  Front  ! 

All  the  subsequent  happenings  in  Hagn’s  case  were 
of  a  pathetic  nature.  Through  the  Norwegian  Govern¬ 
ment  his  mother  was  notified  of  her  son’s  arrest  as  a 
spy,  and  she  wrote  us  a  letter  full  of  the  outpouring 
of  a  distressed  soul.  “  Oh,  judge  the  child  of  my 
heart  leniently  !  ”  she  said  in  conclusion.  The  spy 


262 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

was  duly  brought  to  trial  at  the  Westminster  Guild¬ 
hall  on  August  27th-28th,  1917.  Counsel  briefed  for 
the  accused  man  had  nothing  to  offer  in  the  way  of  a 
defence  owing  to  his  client  having  confessed,  but  he 
asked  leave  to  bring  before  the  court  the  history  of 
Hagn’s  life.  It  was  sad  enough,  in  all  conscience. 
He  had  been  educated  in  America,  and  at  the  time 
when  his  father  was  alive  his  parents  indulged  his 
every  whim.  A  doting  mother’s  fondness  had  seen 
abilities  in  the  boy  which  could  not  have  altogether 
existed,  with  the  result  that  he  received  an  education 
which  unfitted  him  for  the  struggle  of  life.  He  grew 
up  a  dilettante  painter  and  writer,  and  when  the 
father  died  the  mother  found  herself  without  any 
regular  means  of  sustenance.  She  brought  her  son 
back  to  Norway,  thinking  she  would  be  able  to  get  as¬ 
sistance  from  relatives,  and  for  some  years  had  dragged 
out  a  precarious  existence,  hoping  for  the  time  when 
her  son  would  repay  her  for  her  earlier  efforts. 

In  addition  to  this  it  was  stated  to  the  court  that 
Hagn,  suffering  under  the  disappointment  of  an  un¬ 
happy  love  affair,  had  really  become  a  spy  indifferent  to 
what  happened  to  himself. 

Against  all  this,  however,  was  the  fact  that  the 
guilty  man  had  made  two  trips  for  espionage  purposes, 
and  the  court  therefore  pronounced  the  only  sentence 
possible — that  of  death  by  shooting.  In  view  of  the 
strong  representations  as  to  the  effect  this  would 
have  on  the  mother’s  life — it  was  reported  to  us  that 
her  son’s  crime  had  driven  her  to  the  verge  of  insanity 
— the  sentence  was  afterwards  commuted  to  imprison¬ 
ment  for  life. 

But  that  was  not  the  end  of  this  extraordinary  case. 
For  two  years  Hagn  remained  in  Maidstone  Prison, 


Good  for  Evil 


263 


where  his  incarceration  so  worked  upon  his  feelings 
that  he  began  starving  himself.  We  certainly  had  no 
desire  to  have  him  die  under  such  circumstances,  but 
nothing  could  be  done  for  him.  He  would  take  no 
food,  and  there  could  be  no  question  that  his  life  was 
slowly  ebbing  away.  The  fact  was  reported  to  the 
Norwegian  Government,  with  whom  we  were  on  the 
best  of  terms,  and  they  suggested  that,  if  we  would 
do  them  the  great  favour  of  releasing  the  unfortunate 
Hagn,  they  would  send  him  back  to  Norway  and  take 
care  that  he  never  troubled  us  again.  That  course 
we  eventually  agreed  to,  and  on  September  13th,  1919, 
Hagn  was  released  from  prison  and  permitted  to  return 
to  his  native  land.  Before  leaving  he  thanked  us,  with 
tears  streaming  down  his  face,  for  the  kindness  with 
which  we  had  treated  him  and  swore  that  we  would 
never  have  cause  to  regret  it. 

****** 

I  am  fast  coming  to  the  end  of  the  serious  cases  of 
spying  with  which  we  had  to  deal.  After  the  arrest 
of  Hagn  we  passed  through  a  period  of  comparative 
quietude.  There  appeared  every  reason  to  believe 
that  the  Germans  had  grown  thoroughly  disheartened 
by  the  regularity  with  which  we  captured  their  agents, 
and  had  lost  faith  in  their  ability  to  discover  anybody 
who  would  be  able  to  obtain  valuable  information 
undetected. 

The  rigorous  examination  at  our  ports  and  the  much 
stricter  conditions  for  the  issue  of  passports  at  the 
different  places  of  embarkation  had  had  the  desired 
effect.  Instead  of  being  put  to  the  trouble  of  capturing 
spies,  we  were  able  to  prevent  them  getting  into 
England  at  all.  Besides  that,  we  had  by  this  time 


264 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

cultivated  such  a  knowledge  of  the  German  spy 
organization  in  Holland  that  we  were  warned  when 
enemy  agents  were  about  to  depart  for  these  shores. 

Naturally,  there  were  plenty  of  people  being  interned 
or  deported  for  one  reason  or  another  during  this  time, 
but  it  was  not  until  September,  1917,  that  another 
real  spy  succeeded  in  landing  in  England.  It  would 
not  be  strictly  accurate  to  say  that  this  spy  arrived 
unbeknown  to  us.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  had  been 
suspected  on  the  passage  across  from  Flushing,  and 
when  he  arrived  at  Gravesend  his  answers  to  questions 
were  so  unsatisfactory  that  the  authorities  decided 
to  detain  him  for  interrogation  at  Scotland  Yard. 

The  new-comer  proved  to  be  a  handsome  little 
Brazilian,  palpably  half-caste,  well-educated  and  very 
much  frightened.  He  told  us  his  name  was  Jose 
de  Patrocinio,  that  his  father  was  a  well-known 
journalist  in  Brazil.  But  it  took  us  some  consider¬ 
able  time  to  get  at  the  real  reason  of  his  presence  in 
this  country.  He  lied  profusely — but  very  badly 
— and  we  told  him  so.  But  it  was  not  until  we  in¬ 
formed  him  that  we  were  going  to  proceed  against 
him  on  a  charge  of  attempted  espionage  that  he  could 
be  persuaded  to  divulge  the  whole  truth.  His  story 
was  interesting  enough  in  that  it  revealed  the  class 
of  people  whom  the  Germans  were  approaching  for 
purposes  of  espionage. 

He  had  been  a  journalist  in  Brazil,  and  in  1913  had 
gone  to  Paris  as  a  correspondent  of  the  paper  he  had 
been  employed  on  in  Brazil.  While  in  Paris  an 
appointment  as  attache  to  his  country’s  Consulate 
had  come  his  way  :  he  had  accepted  it  and  for  just  on 
three  years  had  remained  a  government  employee, 
varied  by  one  or  two  trips  to  Brazil.  The  year  1916 


265 


The  Tempter 

found  him  in  Amsterdam,  getting  rather  short  of  funds 
and  wondering  what  would  become  of  himself  and  his 
wife.  Apparently  the  Brazilian  Consulate  in  Am¬ 
sterdam  was  economizing,  so  much  so  that  Patrocinio 
found  it  impossible  to  live  on  what  he  was  getting.  He 
made  up  his  mind  to  return  to  Brazil,  but  before  that 
could  happen  one  of  the  many  German  agents  around 
Amsterdam  had  heard  of  his  predicament.  Not  that 
it  was  any  secret :  Patrocinio  told  all  and  sundry  of  the 
petty  little  economies  he  was  reduced  to  in  order  to 
find  the  passage  money.  The  next  step  in  this  spy 
comedy  is  not  difficult  to  foretell.  A  recruiter  of 
spies  was  introduced  to  the  poverty-stricken  Brazilian. 
His  name  was  Loebel  and  over  a  morning  aperitif 
in  an  Amsterdam  cafe  he  told  Patrocinio  that  he  would 
very  much  like  to  come  to  South  America  with  him. 

“  But  how  are  you  going  ?  ”  asked  Loebel ;  “  there 
are  no  Dutch  boats  sailing  direct  for  Bahia.” 

Patrocinio  told  him  he  would  make  his  way  to  the 
United  States,  and  from  there  down  to  South  America. 

“  Well,  I  think  you  are  very  stupid,”  continued 
the  tempter.  “  If  you  like  you  could  earn  quite  a  lot 
of  money.” 

With  barely-concealed  eagerness  Patrocinio  asked 
him  how  it  was  to  be  done. 

“  Oh,  I  shall  introduce  you  to  a  man  who  till  tell 
you  everything,”  was  the  vague  reply. 

The  Brazilian  had  no  doubt  in  his  mind  that  the 
“  someone  ”  was  a  German,  and  thought  he  could 
hazard  a  good  guess  as  to  the  work  he  was  required 
to  do.  However,  he  said  nothing  of  that,  and  arranged 
to  be  at  the  cafe  the  day  following,  when  the  source  of 
his  promised  wealth  would  be  present. 

The  new-comer  turned  out  to  be  a  dark,  furtive- 


266 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

looking  individual,  sallow  complexioned,  bespectacled 
and  possessing  an  apparently  ineradicable  habit  of 
rubbing  his  hands  together.  His  name  was  given  as 
Levy.  After  they  had  been  introduced  Levy  said, 
“  I  am  indeed  glad  to  make  your  acquaintance.  I 
myself  am  a  Brazilian.” 

Patrocinio  spoke  to  him  in  Portuguese  and  received 
a  reply  which  convinced  him  that,  whatever  Levy 
may  have  been,  he  was  certainly  not  a  native  of  Brazil. 
However,  he  said  nothing.  Levy  went  on  to  add 
that  he  had  been  born  at  Rio  Grande  do  Sul,  upon 
which  Patrocinio  told  him  that  if  that  was  so  he  spoke 
very  bad  Portuguese.  “  Oh,  I  am  a  naturalized 
Brazilian,”  replied  that  gentleman,  unabashed. 

But  the  real  Brazilian  was  persistent  and  questioned 
Levy  as  to  his  knowledge  of  some  of  the  towns.  Levy 
could  not  answer,  so  Patrocinio  said  to  him,  “  You  see, 
you  have  never  been  there  at  all.” 

Such  trifles  did  not  bother  Levy.  He  laughed  and 
said,  “  You  are  very  clever  :  you  are  just  the  man  I 
want.”  Becoming  confidential,  he  told  Patrocinio 
that  he  wanted  a  passport  to  go  to  England  :  he  was 
a  Swiss,  he  said,  but  he  wanted  a  Brazilian  passport. 
He  would  give  a  lot  of  money  for  a  passport  which 
would  certify  him  to  be  a  native  of  that  State. 

It  seemed  rather  a  peculiar  process  of  reasoning, 
and  Patrocinio  told  him  so.  “  You  do  not  need  a 
Brazilian  passport  if  you  are  Swiss,”  he  told  Levy. 
But  that  gentleman  was  adamant,  and  seductively 
whispered  to  the  slowly-succumbing  Patrocinio  that 
perhaps  there  were  other  ways  in  which  he  could  earn 
money.  "  I  can  put  you  in  the  way  of  getting  £1,000,” 
said  Levy  mysteriously. 

Patrocinio  gave  him  a  sidelong  look,  but  Levy  looked 


Dangerous  Dialogue  267 

quite  unconcerned  and  took  a  sip  at  his  drink,  staring 
reflectively  at  the  crowd  passing  along  the  street. 

“  How  would  you  like  to  look  after  my  affairs  in 
England  and  France  ?  ”  he  asked  suddenly. 

“  I  don’t  think  I  would  be  much  use  to  you,”  was 
the  reply.  “  In  any  case  I  know  nothing  about  your 
business.” 

Levy  turned  to  him  and  said,  “  You  are  an  intelligent 
man.  If  you  want  to  earn  £1,000,  try  and  find  out 
where  the  next  offensive  will  take  place  in  France.” 

The  secret  was  out.  According  to  Patrocinio’s  own 
account,  the  thought  flashed  across  his  mind  that,  if 
he  could  succeed  in  tricking  this  master  spy,  he  would 
render  a  great  service  to  the  Allies  and  also  to  Brazil. 
That  was  his  story,  but  as  we  had  often  heard  something 
similar  we  took  it  with  a  grain  of  salt,  and  preferred 
to  judge  him  in  the  light  of  his  subsequent  actions. 

However,  to  resume  this  interesting  dialogue. 

“  Even  if  1  found  this  out,  how  could  I  let  you 
know  ?  ”  the  Brazilian  asked. 

“  Well,”  replied  Levy,  “  I  will  tell  you  everything. 
Although  you  may  not  know  it,  I  am  specially  employed 
by  the  Berlin  police.  If  you  remain  faithful  to  us  we 
can  protect  you,  both  in  France  and  England.  Now, 
if  you  are  willing  to  get  the  information  we  want  we 
will  give  you  a  secret  ink  which  will  enable  you  to 
write  your  messages  in  perfect  safety,  and  you  can 
communicate  with  addresses  which  no  one  will 
suspect.” 

“  Where  is  this  wonderful  ink  ?  ”  asked  Patrocinio. 

“  Oh,  I  do  not  carry  it  about  with  me,”  was  the  reply. 
“  You  had  better  meet  me  this  evening  at  Loebel’s 
house  and  we  will  talk  the  matter  over  further.”  It 
was  arranged  that  the  meeting  should  take  place  be- 


268 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

tween  nine  and  nine- thirty  p.m.,  and  Patrocinio,  after 
shaking  hands,  then  took  himself  off. 

He  was  very  distrait  and  nervous  all  through  the 
remainder  of  the  day,  so  much  so  that  at  dinner  his 
wife  asked  him  what  was  the  matter.  “  Oh,  I  have  to 
go  out  and  see  the  Consul  to-night,”  he  said,  with  an 
air  which  did  not  in  the  least  convince  his  experienced 
spouse.  However,  she  let  him  go,  and  shortly  after 
nine  o’clock  Patrocinio  found  himself  in  company  with 
Levy  and  Loebel. 

“  Well,  have  you  thought  it  over  ?  ”  was  Levy’s 
greeting.  “  We  don’t  want  you  to  go  unwillingly. 
There  is  still  time  to  draw  back  if  you  are  afraid.” 

“  I  am  not  afraid,”  was  the  angry  reply.  “  But  I 
do  not  like  the  thought  of  becoming  a  spy.” 

“  Do  you  want  to  get  that  £1,000,”  asked  the  tempter. 

“  Yes,”  answered  Patrocinio,  “  I  do.  I  will  try  and 
get  you  what  you  want.” 

“  All  right,”  said  Levy,  “  but  mind  you  do  not  try 
to  betray  us.  I  can  have  you  assassinated  either  in 
London  or  in  Paris.” 

“  I  will  not  betray  you,”  said  Patrocinio.  “  If  you 
give  me  the  secret  ink  I  will  send  you  the  information 
you  want.” 

With  that  assurance  Levy  then  began  to  give  the 
newly-enlisted  spy  his  instructions.  He  was  to  obtain 
news  of  the  movements  of  troops  in  certain  districts 
in  France  and  forward  it,  written  between  the  lines  of 
an  ordinary  letter,  to  six  addresses  which  would  be 
furnished  to  him.  Some  were  in  Switzerland,  some  in 
Denmark.  At  the  end  of  six  weeks  he  was  to  travel 
to  Switzerland,  and  from  there  write  to  Frankfort-on- 
Main,  announcing  that  he  had  arrived.  He  would  be 
paid  according  to  the  value  of  the  information  he  had 


The  Witches’  Brew 


269 


gathered,  and  if  he  served  them  faithfully  they  would 
treat  him  well  and  give  him  further  employment. 

The  next  move  in  this  delightful  little  conspiracy 
was  that  Levy  took  Patrocinio  into  an  adjacent  room. 
“  Now,”  he  said,  “  I  have  the  secret  ink  here,  and  am 
going  to  show  you  how  to  use  it.” 

And  an  absorbing  process  it  proved.  Levy  went  into 
another  room,  and  brought  back  with  him  a  small 
bottle  of  ammonia,  some  cotton  wool  and  a  writing 
block.  Then  from  the  kitchen  he  procured  a  vegetable 
dish,  in  which  he  poured  hot  water. 

The  next  step  in  this  exhibition  of  legerdemain  up- 
to-date  was  the  appearance  of  a  soft  linen  collar  and 
two  or  three  handkerchiefs.  It  was  a  white  collar, 
cream  in  tinge,  and  Levy  placed  it  in  the  hot  water  to 
soak.  While  the  little  party  were  waiting,  Levy  said 
to  Patrocinio,  “  Now,  when  you  soak  these  collars  and 
handkerchiefs  you  must  be  careful  to  wash  your  hands 
well.  Each  collar  is  sufficient  to  make  a  hundred 
grammes  of  ink,  which  will  be  more  than  ample  for 
your  requirements.  Leave  the  collars  to  soak  about 
fifteen  minutes.  Generally  our  spies  put  the  fluid  in 
oxygen  water  bottles,  because  it  is  the  same  colour  as 
bad  oxygen  water.  You  had  better  do  the  same  thing . ” 
When  the  quarter  of  an  hour  had  elapsed  Levy  took 
the  collar  out  of  the  water,  wrung  it  hard  and 
carefully  dried  his  hands.  ^ 

“  I  will  show  you  how  to  use  the  writing  block 
now,”  he  said.  “  Any  kind  of  paper  will  do,  provided 
it  has  a  dull  surface.  You  must  not  use  hand-made 
papers  with  a  smooth  surface.  The  ink  spreads  on  it 
and  cannot  be  developed.” 

Going  into  the  room  adjacent  Levy  returned  with 
a  box  of  ball-pointed  pens  and  a  bottle  of  Eau-de- 


270 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

Cologne.  “  Before  you  attempt  to  write  a  message 
in  this  ink  you  must  be  careful  to  put  something  on 
the  nib  which  will  enable  the  ink  to  be  caught,”  he  said. 
Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  soaked  a  small  piece 
of  cotton  wool  with  Eau-de-Cologne,  put  it  in  the  fire, 
and  put  the  cinders  on  the  nib.  That  done  to  his 
satisfaction,  he  dipped  the  nib  in  the  secret  ink  and 
wrote  two  or  three  sentences  on  the  block  of  paper 
So  far  as  Patrocinio  could  see,  nothing  had  happened  : 
the  paper  certainly  did  not  show  any  trace  of  writing. 
“  Is  that  all  I  do  ?  ”  he  asked  rather  scornfully. 

“  Wait,”  was  the  reply ;  “  you  want  to  go  too  fast.” 

For  a  few  minutes  Levy  allowed  the  paper  to  dry. 
Then  he  mixed  some  ammonia  and  water,  and,  making 
a  small  mop  with  a  piece  of  cotton  wool,  dipped  it 
in  the  mixture  and  washed  the  surface  of  the  paper, 
first  downwards,  then  across.  When  that  was  finished 
he  carefully  went  round  the  corners  of  the  paper. 

“  When  you  have  done  this,”  he  said,  “  you  place 
the  paper  between  two  sheets  of  blotting  paper  to  dry, 
so  that  no  one  shall  be  able  to  detect  that  it  has  been 
chemically  treated.  Patrocinio  asked  how  he  was  to 
be  able  to  read  this  secret  ink,  but  he  received  a  sudden 
shock  in  the  change  shown  by  the  previously  amiable 
Levy. 

“You  want  to  know  too  much,”  he  said  fiercely, 
clutching  the  Brazilian  by  both  arms.  “  Be  content 
with  what  you  have  seen.  It  will  cost  you  dear  if 
you  betray  us,  and  even  if  you  attempt  it  we  will  have 
you  assassinated.” 

Levy  then  told  him  that  he  was  to  remain  in  France : 
on  no  account  was  he  to  go  to  Brazil.  “  Here  are 
some  things  from  which  you  can  make  the  ink,”  he 
said,  handing  him  some  collars  and  handkerchiefs 


Comedy  intervenes  271 

and  a  washing  glove,  similar  to  that  sold  in  chemists’ 
shops.  ‘‘You  will  find  inside  the  glove  the  address 
of  the  person  you  are  to  write  to  in  Frankfort.  When 
you  have  completed  your  mission  somebody  will  come 
to  you  from  there  and  give  you  the  address  of  a  man 
in  France  who  will  pay  you  for  your  information.” 

It  was  after  eleven  o’clock  before  this  interesting 
seance  concluded,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  when 
Patrocinio  took  his  departure  he  was  badly  frightened. 
Exactly  what  happened  between  him  and  his  better 
half  was  never  learnt,  although  it  can  easily  be  pieced 
together  in  view  of  the  subsequent  happenings. 

According  to  the  story  he  told  us,  Patrocinio  had 
no  intention  of  going  to  France  to  spy  for  the  Germans. 
But  it  is  much  more  likely  that  his  better  half  com¬ 
pelled  him  to  reveal  what  had  occurred,  and,  like  a 
sensible  woman,  threatened  to  confess  everything  if 
her  husband  would  not.  Apparently  Patrocinio 
stipulated  that  he  should  get  out  of  Holland  first  : 
the  threat  of  assassination  would  seem  to  have  had  a 
potent  effect  on  his  none  too  bold  nature.  So  the 
couple  resolved  to  get  back  to  Brazil  via  England, 
and  booked  a  passage  by  the  first  boat. 

The  actual  end  of  this  spy  comedy  was  the  most 
humorous  of  all.  As  the  boat  was  leaving  the  quay 
at  Flushing  one  of  the  passengers  saw  Patrocinio  lean 
over  the  side  and  throw  some  collars  into  the  water. 
It  seemed  rather  an  extraordinary  proceeding,  and  the 
witness  thought  he  could  not  do  better  than  keep 
the  little  Brazilian  under  observation  on  the  passage 
to  Gravesend. 

Patrocinio  had  still  another  fright  on  the  way.  A 
lady  who  was  bringing  some  children  across  said  to 
Madame  Patrocinio,  in  hearing  of  her  husband,  “  Oh, 


272 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

do  you  happen  to  know  a  Mr.  Rene  Levy.  He  was 
staying  in  the  same  hotel  as  myself  and  told  me  he  was 
a  Brazilian.” 

If  this  were  not  enough  for  the  already-shattered 
nerves  of  the  real  Brazilian,  the  gentleman  who  had 
seen  him  throw  the  collars  overboard  came  up  soon 
after  and  asked  him  if  he  had  any  dealings  with 
Germans  while  he  was  in  Holland.  This  just  about 
finished  any  intention  Patrocinio  may  have  had  of 
serving  the  Germans,  and  he  told  his  questioner  a 
garbled  story  of  his  connection  with  Levy  and  Loebel, 
gave  him  the  secret  of  the  invisible  ink  and  implored 
him  not  to  tell  anyone  in  England. 

It  is  quite  possible  that  Patrocinio  never  had  any 
real  intent  of  assisting  the  Germans  :  his  flight  to 
England  supported  that  supposition.  But  when  he 
arrived  at  Gravesend  he  told  so  many  untruths  that 
the  authorities,  with  certain  facts  already  in  their  pos¬ 
session,  had  no  option  but  to  detain  him  and  get  at 
the  real  facts.  He  had  certainly  committed  a  serious 
crime  in  having  consorted  with  enemy  agents  abroad 
and  making  his  way  to  England  with  materials  for  in¬ 
visible  writing  in  his  possession.  So  he  was  detained 
in  custody  and  the  Brazilian  Government  notified. 

^  We  had  trouble  enough  and  to  spare  before  Patro- 
cinio’s  ultimate  fate  was  decided.  From  the 
Brazilian  Government  we  learnt  that  the  father  of  the 
self-confessed  man  was  a  national  hero  in  that  country, 
and  that  if  we  were  to  bring  his  son  to  trial  on  a  charge 
of  attempted  espionage  it  was  more  than  likely  that 
the  prO-Ally  Government  then  in  power  might  not  be 
able  to  stand  before  the  storm  which  was  certain  to 
be  aroused.  We  were  informed  that  Patrocinio 
senior,  a  well-known  half-caste  journalist  in  Brazil, 


An  Awkward  Case 


278 


had  been  responsible  for  liberating  all  the  slaves  in 
that  country  many  years  ago,  and  that  his  name  was 
reverenced  as  “  Liberator.” 

Our  predicament  was  certainly  an  awkward  one, 
and,  after  assuring  ourselves  that  Patrocinio  had  told 
us  everything,  it  was  thought  advisable  to  concur  in 
the  Brazilian  Government’s  suggestion  that  the  accused 
man  should  be  repatriated  to  his  native  land.  It  is 
doubtful  whether  he  could  have  been  convicted  on 
the  major  charge  of  attempted  espionage,  although 
he  would  undoubtedly  have  been  found  guilty  on  an 
indictment  of  having  been  in  company  with  enemy 
agents  and  then  attempting  to  land  in  England.  But 
in  all  the  circumstances  it  did  not  greatly  matter,  so 
we  deported  the  erring  individual  and  told  him  in 
future  to  keep  out  of  such  troublesome  company. 

****** 

Although  I  have  no  intention  of  giving  actual  details 
of  the  many  secret  inks  the  Germans  used  during  the 
war — for  reasons  that  will  be  obvious — there  is  no  harm 
in  saying  that  we  were  able  to  develop  them  all. 
After  the  enemy  had  come  to  the  conclusion— by  sad 
experience — that  it  was  a  waste  of  time  troubling 
about  crudities  such  as  lemon  juice,  his  chemists 
were  requisitioned  to  experiment  in  liquids  which 
would  defy  detection.  They  were  certainly  clever  at 
it,  and  produced  many  inks  which  took  weeks  of 
experiment  to  develop.  But  we  learnt  it  all  in  time. 

For  some  considerable  period  the  enemy  equipped 
their  spies  with  an  ink  which  masqueraded  as  a  mixture 
for  gonorrhoea,  a  comment  on  the  habits  of  many 
of  their  agents  which  was  probably  too  subtle  to  be 
German.  The  difficulty  was  to  give  the  spy  the  secret 

18 


274 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

ink  in  such  a  form  that  would  cause  it  to  remain 
unsuspected.  All  sorts  of  stratagems  were  resorted 
to.  In  the  case  of  the  Dutch  cigar  travellers,  Janssen 
and  Roos,  they  were  found  to  be  in  possession  of  a 
perfume  which  was  nothing  but  a  secret  ink,  although, 
so  far  as  we  knew,  they  had  never  attempted  to  use  it. 

Eva  de  Bournonville  was  another  spy  whose  liquid 
for  invisible  writing  was  disguised  as  scent,  while  de 
Rysbach,  the  music-hall  artist  who  was  repatriated 
from  Ruhleben  to  become  an  enemy  agent,  was  given 
in  Berlin  a  pomade  which  had  to  be  dissolved  in  hot 
water  to  make  the  necessary  medium  for  communica¬ 
tion.  De  Rysbach  told  us  that  he  threw  away  most  of 
this  pomade  while  passing  Lake  Constance  in  Switzer¬ 
land,  keeping  one  tube  as  a  souvenir.  One  enter¬ 
prising  individual,  who  for  a  long  time  defied  all  our 
efforts  to  trace  the  ink  he  was  known  to  be  using,  was 
ultimately  found  to  have  it  concealed  in  the  form  of  a 
powder,  hidden  away  in  the  metal  buttons  of  his  coat. 

George  Vaux  Bacon,  the  American  journalist, 
carried  in  his  socks  an  ink  which  bore  some  relation 
to  Salvarsan  or  “  606,”  while  Alfred  Hagn’s  ink  was 
in  the  form  of  a  throat  gargle.  Ingenious,  some  might 
say.  But  to  what  end  ?  All  the  clever  tricks  of  the 
Germans  re-acted  to  their  own  detriment,  as  did  their 
different  poisonous  gases.  Invisible  inks  are  not  a 
modern  adoption  for  espionage  purposes.  So  long  ago 
as  1759,  when  we  were  more  or  less  embroiled  with  the 
French,  a  spy  came  to  London,  using  lemon  juice  to 
send  undetectable  messages.  It  does  not  say  a  great 
deal  for  the  ingenuity  of  the  Hun  that  at  the  beginning 
of  the  war  he  could  not  think  of  some  better  protection 
for  his  agents’  communications.  Either  that,  or  else 
the  Germans  must  have  thought  we  were  so  stupid 


The  Zeppelin  Guide  275 

that  anything  would  pass  muster.  However,  we 
speedily  undeceived  him,  and,  thanks  to  the  regularity 
with  which  we  deciphered  hidden  messages,  he  was 
compelled  to  discover  chemicals  which  might  almost 
be  beyond  solution.  Still,  secret  inks  would  appear 
in  one  respect  to  resemble  ciphers  :  there  had  to  be 
a  key  to  the  puzzle. 

****** 

After  J  ose  de  Patrocinio  had  been  dealt  with  German 
espionage  in  England  underwent  a  most  pronounced 
slump.  Whether  the  enemy  gave  it  up  in  disgust  or 
whether  our  arrangements  for  keeping  spies  out  of  the 
country  were  too  efficient  we  shall  probably  never 
know,  but  this  much  is  certain — we  never  brought 
another  man  or  woman  to  trial  on  a  charge  of  being 
a  German  spy. 

There  were  plenty  of  suspicious  characters  always 
coming  our  way,  one  of  the  worst  being  a  German  J ew 
named  Lionel  Max  Ettlinger,  who  had  been  naturalized 
in  this  country.  On  the  outbreak  of  war,  Ettlinger, 
who  owned  a  prosperous  business  here,  was  in  Germany, 
and,  along  with  a  great  many  others,  was  thrown  into 
Ruhleben.  He  was  repatriated  in  1918,  and  arrived 
on  April  28th,  but  the  circumstances  were  so  full  of 
doubt  that  he  was  taken  to  Scotland  Yard  to  be 
interrogated  as  to  when  and  why  the  Germans  had 
actually  released  him.  It  was  the  old  tale  of  double 
deception.  Ettlinger  said  that  when  war  came  he 
tried  to  bluff  the  Germans  by  offering  to  guide 
Zeppelins  to  England  if  they  would  release  him.  That 
stratagem  did  not  appeal  to  the  Huns,  who  probably 
knew  that  once  Ettlinger  got  to  England  he  would  snap 
his  fingers  at  them.  So  they  put  him  into  Ruhleben. 

18* 


276 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

From  the  English  point  of  view,  Ettlinger  was  too 
dangerous  to  be  at  large  :  he  may  have  come  on  a 
spying  mission  after  all.  In  any  case  we  decided  that, 
having  offered  his  services  to  the  Germans,  he  was  of 
no  further  use  to  us,  so  we  denaturalized  him  and 
dumped  him  back  on  the  Fatherland  with  orders  not 
to  return. 

*  *  *  $  *  $ 

All  the  evidence  which  we  could  accumulate  from 
returning  civilian  prisoners  pointed  to  the  fact  that  the 
Germans  had  a  great  many  spies  in  their  different 
camps,  and  were  making  strenuous  efforts  to  induce 
men  to  come  to  England  and  forward  information, 
written  in  invisible  ink,  to  neutral  addresses.  Money 
and  freedom  was  the  reward  offered,  with  a  threat  of 
assassination  if  the  willing  ones  attempted  to  betray 
them.  Kurt  de  Rysbach  was  one  instance,  and  there 
were  many  others  whom  we  detained  to  make  perfectly 
sure  they  had  not  gone  over  to  the  enemy.  Of  the 
Hun  talk  of  assassination  we  have  heard  nothing 
further.  It  has  vanished,  along  with  the  disreputable 
creatures  whom  Germany  employed  to  carry  out  her 
espionage. 

About  April,  1917,  we  were  keeping  a  keen  look-out 
for  a  well-known  German  spy,  named  Heinrich  Bode, 
who  had  been  mixed  up  in  the  organization  run  by  the 
Germans  in  America.  Bode  possessed  several  aliases. 
In  Spain  he  was  known  as  Boda,  in  America  as  William 
Reed  or  William  Disque,  while  in  other  countries  he 
passed  as  Dr.  Israel.  Probably  the  warning  we  sent 
all  round  the  world  proved  too  much  for  him,  for  he 
eventually  got  back  to  America,  where  he  was  arrested 
as  a  deserter  from  the  United  States  Army,  being 


Professor  Kuno  Meyer  277 

subsequently  charged  with  infringing  the  laws  of 
neutrality  and  sentenced  to  a  long  terra  of  imprison¬ 
ment.  Bode  was  only  one  of  the  many  cosmopolitans 
whom  the  Germans  engaged  in  their  espionage  service. 
Most  of  them  we  got  to  know  in  time,  although  they 
were  too  cunning  to  venture  outside  German  or  neutral 
territory,  so  we  never  had  the  pleasure  of  interviewing 
them. 

****** 

Somewhere  about  the  end  of  May,  1918,  an  in¬ 
structive  example  of  the  enemy’s  ramifications  came 
to  light,  when  letters  to  Professor  Kuno  Meyer  from 
someone  in  Ireland  were  intercepted.  It  turned  out 
that  the  writer  was  a  Mdlle.  Mia  Bruns,  an  Austrian 
woman  employed  as  secretary  to  a  well-known  horse 
trainer  in  Ireland. 

When  we  got  to  the  bottom  of  the  many  lies  which 
were  told  us,  it  appeared  that  the  woman  in  question 
was  an  old  flame  of  the  Professor,  and  had  probably 
not  altogether  lost  hope  that  he  would  one  day  marry 
her.  We  asked  Mdlle.  Bruns  if  she  was  aware  that  the 
Professor  was  busily  engaged  in  trying  to  stir  up  trouble 
in  Ireland,  also  if  she  knew  that  he  had  been  a  German 
spy  in  America.  After  a  little  prevarication  the  lady 
admitted  that  she  did,  and  furthermore  told  us  she 
had  written  to  de  Valera,  enclosing  one  of  Meyer’s 
letters  to  her  (probably  to  prove  her  sympathy  with 
the  Sinn  Fein  movement),  appealing  to  him  for  pro¬ 
tection  in  the  many  raids  which  were  then  taking  place. 
There  did  not  appear  to  be  any  reason  for  thinking 
that  Mdlle.  Bruns  had  actually  become  a  German 
spy,  but  all  the  same  we  came  to  the  conclusion  it 
would  be  better  for  all  concerned  if  she  were  sent  back 
to  her  native  Austria. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Did  Germany  succeed  in  her  espionage  ? — The  character  of  her 
spies — Steinhau  er . 

I  have  come  to  the  end  of  my  narrative  in  so  far  as 
it  concerns  the  spies  whom  we  actually  brought  to 
justice.  In  the  not  distant  future  there  will  be  many 
stories  woven  around  the  careers  of  some  of  the  more 
picturesque  German  agents  who  came  here  in  the 
time  of  the  Great  War,  and  I  am  quite  certain  that 
most  of  them  will  be  lavishly  coloured  by  the  brush 
of  the  painter  in  words. 

What  I  have  set  down  is  nothing  but  the  plain, 
unadulterated  truth.  Ordinarily  I  am  not  addicted 
to  moralizing  ;  if  I  were  I  might  come  to  the  con¬ 
clusion,  after  studying  the  personality  of  people  who 
took  up  the  profession  of  spy,  that  the  work  would 
not  have  seemed  so  attractive  had  it  not  been  invested 
with  such  false  romance.  One  could  understand  the 
glamour  of  espionage  if  the  type  of  spy  so  commonly 
portrayed  on  the  stage  and  in  books  of  fiction  were 
heroic.  But  who  has  ever  seen  a  play  where  the  hero 
was  a  spy  ?  And  yet  there  is  no  reason  why  he  should 
not.  All  over  the  world  a  spy  is  regarded  with  nothing 
but  opprobrium  and  disgust,  although  it  is  an  un¬ 
doubted  truth  that  the  homage  of  a  nation  may  not 
be  too  great  a  reward  for  the  successful  spy.  If  by 
spying  we  were  able  to  forestall  the  enemy’s  intentions, 
and  thereby  save  the  lives  of  thousands  of  British 

278 


279 


An  Ill-considered  Trade 

soldiers,  is  there  a  parent  or  wife  in  these  islands 
who  would  say,  “No,  we  will  have  nothing  to  do  with 
such  methods  ?  ”  There  is  not  one,  of  that  I  am 
certain. 

The  word  “  spy  ”  has  come  to  be  associated  almost 
entirely  with  warfare.  But  there  are  spies  in  com¬ 
merce,  men  of  honoured  standing  in  the  community, 
who,  to  protect  their  own  businesses,  find  it  necessary 
to  obtain  some  idea  of  what  their  competitors  are 
doing.  Exactly  the  same  state  of  affairs  exists  with 
the  great  nations  of  the  world.  They  must  keep  pace 
with  progress,  and,  whether  it  be  in  war  or  peace, 
cannot  afford  to  let  their  rivals  have  the  field  to  them¬ 
selves.  And  the  side  which  learns  most  of  the  other’s 
intentions  is  the  one  which  profits  most.  If  the  real 
truth  were  stated,  I  expect  the  world-wide  anathema 
which  surrounds  the  profession  of  spy  is  due  entirely 
to  the  fact  that  commercial  espionage  is  not  an 
offence  punishable  even  with  a  monetary  penalty, 
much  less  death.  How  different  it  is  with  the  naval 
or  military  spy  !  In  time  of  peace  he  may  be  sub¬ 
jected  to  lifelong  imprisonment  :  when  war  comes  he 
may  forfeit  his  life  as  the  reward  for  failure. 

I  am  hoping  that  this  book  will  set  at  rest  for  ever 
those  absurd  stories  which  were  current  all  over  the 
United  Kingdom  as  to  the  number  of  spies  whom  we 
executed.  It  will  be  recognized  now  that  we  handled 
the  German  spy  menace  quite  cleverly.  In  France, 
Italy  and  Great  Britain  the  concerted  measures  taken 
to  suppress  clandestine  activities  by  the  enemy,  par¬ 
ticularly  sabotage,  were  so  effective  that  the  Ger¬ 
mans,  by  the  end  of  1917,  appear  to  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  espionage  was  a  waste  of  time  and 
money.  So  that  will  be  the  end  of  spies,  your  super- 


280  German  Spies  at  Bay 

optimist  will  say.  We  have  no  more  seen  the  last 
spy  than  we  have  passed  through  the  last  war. 

I  am  quite  certain  that  our  national  characteristic 
of  regarding  all  foreigners  with  suspicion  was  respon¬ 
sible  for  the  numerous  spy  scares  in  the  early  days  of 
the  war.  And,  as  a  natural  consequence,  people 
came  to  invest  the  German  espionage  system  with 
powers  and  intricacies  it  certainly  did  not  possess. 
If  one-tenth  of  the  number  of  men  and  women  re¬ 
ported  to  be  enemy  agents  in  this  country  actually 
were  so,  then  the  Germans,  unknown  to  our  counter¬ 
espionage  authorities,  had  at  least  ten  thousand  spies 
in  this  country.  And  if  that  were  the  case,  we  should 
have  suffered  innumerable  acts  of  sabotage.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  not  one  took  place.  The  tremendous 
explosions  at  Silvertown  in  1917  and  at  Chilwell, 
outside  Nottingham,  in  1918,  both  of  which  were 
commonly  credited  to  German  agents,  were  definitely 
proved  to  be  nothing  but  the  result  of  accident. 

Does  it  never  occur  to  those  English  people  who 
have  nothing  but  amused  contempt  for  the  foreigner, 
that  we  are  foreigners  when  we  go  to  Paris,  or  Rome, 
or  anywhere  else  on  the  Continent  ?  A  typical 
instance  of  the  English  attitude  towards  strangers 
within  our  gates  occurred  in  the  autumn  of  1917, 
when  one  of  the  Russian  commanders-in-chief,  a  man 
who  had  rendered  brilliant  service  to  the  Allies,  arrived 
in  England  after  having  been  exiled  by  the  ineffable 
Kerensky  Government  in  Petrograd.  This  Russian 
general,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  a  woman  who 
subsequently  gave  her  life  in  nursing  wounded  French 
soldiers,  came  to  London  and  went  to  one  of  those 
quiet,  ultra-fashionable  hotels  off  Piccadilly,  seeking 
accommodation.  What  happened  can  best  be  related 


Where  the  Enemy  failed  281 

in  the  words  of  the  manageress  of  the  hotel,  on  being 
questioned  as  to  whether  the  Russian  general  was 
staying  there.  “  Oh,  yes,”  she  said  ;  “  I  remember 
the  gentleman.  A  foreigner,  was  he  not  ?  No,  I  didn’t 
take  him  in.  I  didn’t  quite  like  the  look  of  him.” 

I  wonder  what  she  would  have  said  had  Earl  Haig 
gone  to  Petrograd  and  been  refused  accommodation 
by  a  Russian  hotel-keeper  on  the  grounds  that  our 
Commander-in-Chief  was  a  foreigner,  and  that  he  was 
not  enamoured  of  his  looks.  Our  immediate  with¬ 
drawal  from  the  ranks  of  the  Allies  would  have  been 
the  least  of  the  reparations  demanded. 

I  am  quite  positive  that  this  feeling  had  every¬ 
thing  to  do  with  the  idiotic  spy  scares  which  per¬ 
meated  Great  Britain  all  through  the  war.  Every 
foreigner,  potentially,  was  a  German  agent,  and  the 
enemy  possessed  the  means  to  obtain  almost  any 
information  he  wanted — if  common  report  was  to  be 
believed.  The  reader  will  be  able  to  judge  fairly  well, 
by  the  incidents  I  have  related  in  this  book,  the 
extent  of  the  spy  menace,  and  the  conclusion  arrived 
at  will  be  the  correct  one— that  the  German  espionage 
organization,  so  far  as  we  were  concerned,  was  remark¬ 
able  chiefly  for  its  stupidity. 

The  secret  of  successful  spying,  all  the  world  over 
and  in  all  countries,  is  to  undermine  the  loyalty  of  the 
people.  We  know  for  certain  that  attempts  in  this 
direction  were  made  here  before  the  war  ;  what  hap¬ 
pened  after  August,  1914,  remains  an  unknown 
quantity.  It  is  highly  probable  that  there  was  never 
any  serious  effort  to  induce  our  people  to  turn  traitor. 
I  am  quite  aware  that  in  the  United  States  the  Germans 
caused  the  Allies  a  considerable  amount  of  damage  by 
acts  of  sabotage  and  divulging  information  concerning 


282 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

the  movements  of  shipping  which  resulted  in  the  loss 
of  many  vessels  and  their  cargoes.  But  it  must  be 
remembered  that  there  were  nearly  ten  million 
Germans  in  America,  all  of  whom  possessed  the  free¬ 
dom  of  the  ordinary  citizen.  The  wonder  is  that  they 
did  not  rise  en  masse  when  the  United  States  declared 
war  on  Germany. 

Our  achievement  in  going  through  the  war  without 
having  cause  to  arrest  a  bona  fide  British  subject  of 
spying  for  the  enemy  will  go  down  to  history  as  an 
incident  of  the  highest  importance.  How  different  it 
was  with  the  Germans !  There  were  thousands  of 
them  only  too  willing  to  work  for  the  Allies. 

It  would  hardly  be  fair  to  apply  severe  criticism  to 
prisoners  of  war  captured  from  the  battle  line,  who 
might  be  compelled  to  reveal  matters  of  military 
interest  under  what  would  literally  be  a  threat  of 
death.  The  Germans,  once  they  had  broken  all  the 
canons  of  the  accepted  methods  of  warfare,  had,  of 
course,  no  reason  to  stick  at  anything  which  might 
be  of  value  to  them,  and  accordingly  practised  the 
most  disgraceful  cruelties  on  their  prisoners,  especially 
the  Irish  and  Indian  troops,  in  the  attempt  to  seduce 
their  national  allegiance.  It  was  all  part  of  the  great 
scheme  to  disintegrate  the  British  Empire  by  rebellion 
in  Ireland  and  India. 

There  was  a  great  outcry  in  Germany  at  the  time 
we  were  spreading  all  over  the  world  that  horrible 
story  of  the  bodies  of  dead  German  soldiers  being 
rendered  into  fat.  The  enemy  Press  protested  that 
it  was  not  war.  Probably  not,  any  more  than  was 
the  German  corruption  of  a  section  of  the  French  Press. 
The  enemy  process  of  reasoning  seems  to  have  been, 
“  Don’t  do  as  I  do  ;  do  as  I  tell  you.” 


For  and  Against  283 

Towards  the  end  of  the  war  the  Germans  com¬ 
plained  that  occupied  France  and  Belgium  was  over¬ 
run  with  our  spies.  But  why  make  a  grievance  of 
that  fact  ?  Did  the  invaders  imagine  that  their 
presence  gave  pleasure  to  the  unfortunate  people  whose 
houses  they  had  forcibly  taken,  whose  labour  had 
been  impressed  under  threat  of  starvation  ?  Did  the 
enemy  imagine  that  he  should  be  permitted  to  spy 
without  let  or  hindrance,  while  his  opponents  remained 
idle  ?  The  German  is  surely  a  humourless  creature. 
The  plain  fact  of  the  matter  is  that  the  militarists 
who  once  reigned  in  Potsdam  possessed  the  intelli¬ 
gence  of  a  spoilt  child.  They  were  fought  with  their 
own  weapons,  and  the  result  was  not  to  their  liking. 

I  am  hopeful  that  one  of  these  days  we  shall  be 
vouchsafed  a  glimpse  of  what  the  British  Secret 
Service  did  in  Germany.  I  know  it  will  make  much 
more  cheerful  reading  than  the  dismal  record  of 
failure  which  attended  the  efforts  of  the  Germans  in 
England.  It  is  quite  probable  that  in  the  early 
months  of  the  war,  before  the  Postal  Censorship  was 
in  full  working  order,  and  before  there  was  any 
regular  system  of  supervising  the  arrival  and  departure 
of  people  through  our  ports,  that  a  certain  amount  of 
information  found  its  way  into  German  hands.  But 
these  were  the  days  of  chaos.  Our  naval  and  military 
preparations  changed  so  rapidly  that  any  intelligence 
the  enemy  may  have  received  would  be  out  of  date 
so  quickly  as  to  be  valueless. 

There  are  other  reasons,  however,  which  discoun¬ 
tenance  the  possibility  of  the  Germans  having  received 
much  that  would  be  of  real  utility.  First  and  fore¬ 
most  is  the  test  infallible  in  everything  all  the  world 
over — that  of  results.  If  the  enemy  did  get  anything 


284 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

particularly  valuable,  then  he  either  made  exceed¬ 
ingly  poor  use  of  it,  or,  more  likely  still,  so  mistrusted 
the  source  that  the  ultimate  effect  was  the  same. 

To  judge  from  the  character  and  professional 
ability  of  the  spies  we  captured  in  England,  one  is 
fairly  safe  in  assuming  that  the  average  German  agent 
possessed  neither  the  training  nor  the  experience  to 
become  a  successful  spy.  Nor  did  many  possess  the 
patriotism  which  might  have  kept  them  compara¬ 
tively  honest  in  the  reports  they  attempted  to  send 
to  their  employers.  With  the  exception  of  Lody  and 
Kiipferle,  we  did  not  come  across  a  single  German 
spy  whose  motives  were  other  than  mercenary.  Nearly 
all  the  letters  we  intercepted  enlarged  on  the  great 
importance  of  the  information  being  sent,  of  the 
terrible  risks  being  incurred,  and  the  immediate 
necessity  for  more  money.  Naturally,  much  of  the 
so-called  “  intelligence  ”  contained  in  these  letters 
was  fabricated  by  the  spies  themselves.  Whether  the 
Hun  actually  swallowed  all  these  fairy-tales  is  another 
matter.  He  was  probably  wily  enough  to  put  him¬ 
self  in  the  other  fellow’s  place — mentally,  I  mean — 
and  come  to  the  conclusion  that,  if  he  were  spying 
in  a  hostile  country,  he  would  try  and  furnish  his 
employers  with  the  class  of  news  they  wanted.  Its 
accuracy  would  be  a  minor  consideration.  In  the 
first  place,  there  was  always  the  grave  likelihood  that 
he  would  finish  his  earthly  career  in  front  of  a  firing 
party.  If  he  were  a  neutral,  and  escaped,  it  was  likely 
that  he  would  never  need  to  set  foot  in  Germany,  and 
thus  put  himself  within  reach  of  the  authorities  for 
furnishing  false  information.  And,  lastly,  always 
there  remained  the  saving  clause  that  the  German 
Secret  Service  would  not  be  able  to  prove  that  he  had 


285 


The  Deceiving  Master-spy 

wilfully  sent  false  reports,  knowing  them  to  be  so. 
When,  in  addition,  is  taken  into  calculation  how  few 
of  the  German  spies  could  plead  “  Pro  P atria  ”  as  the 
underlying  motive  for  their  turning  spy,  then  it  will 
not  be  difficult  to  arrive  at  a  precise  estimate  of  the 
value  of  their  work  in  this  country.  I  will  conclude 
this  short  diatribe  on  espionage  with  a  story  which  is 
perfectly  true,  and  which  illustrates  better  than  any¬ 
thing  I  know  the  character  of  the  people  employed 
by  the  German  Secret  Service. 

In  July,  1914,  information  came  into  our  possession, 
thanks  to  the  close  watch  we  maintained  over  cor¬ 
respondence  received  by  Ernst,  the  postman  of  the 
enemy’s  pre-war  spy  system  here,  that  Steinhauer,  the 
head  of  the  organization,  was  on  his  way  to  England. 
His  mission  was  to  inspect  his  spies  in  different  parts 
of  the  country.  But  the  crafty  Steinhauer,  who  must 
have  known  how  close  war  was,  knew  better  than  to 
put  his  head  into  the  lion’s  mouth.  Instead  of  land¬ 
ing  here,  he  wrote  twenty-two  postcards  and  enclosed 
them  under  one  cover  to  Ernst,  with  instructions  to 
forward  one  to  each  of  his  spies,  and  have  them  posted 
in  the  particular  town  where  an  agent  lived.  Berlin 
would  naturally  conclude  that  Steinhauer  was  going 
his  round  according  to  schedule.  While  this  pretty 
little  deception  was  being  carried  through,  Steinhauer 
was  enjoying  a  gorgeous  holiday  at  Blankenberghe, 
near  Ostend.  The  money  he  had  drawn  for  the 
expenses  of  the  trip  more  than  paid  for  the  cost  of  the 
holiday  at  the  Belgian  seaside  resort.  However,  we 
never  told  Berlin  of  this.  We  thought  it  to  our 
advantage  that  people  of  the  Steinhauer  type  should 
continue  to  be  employed.  If  the  head  of  the  enemy 
espionage  system  swindled  his  employers,  then 


286 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

obviously  the  rank  and  file  would  follow  suit.  And 
so  it  proved,  all  through  the  war.  The  paymasters 
in  Holland  cheated  the  spies  in  England,  and  com¬ 
pelled  them  to  write  for  money  and  thus  give  them¬ 
selves  away,  the  spies  in  England  cheated  their 
rascally  employers  with  false  information.  Some¬ 
times  we  took  a  hand  in  the  game  and  continued  a 
spy’s  correspondence  for  him,  to  add  to  the  general 
confusion. 

****** 

Quite  one  of  the  most  picturesque  figures  in  the 
thousands  of  spies  who  overran  Holland  and  Belgium 
during  the  war  was  the  woman  known  as  the  Frau 
Doctor  Elizabeth,  who  was  reputed  to  be  the  head 
of  German  espionage  schools.  Her  real  name  is 
supposed  to  have  been  Heinrichsen,  although  we  could 
never  definitely  establish  the  fact.  She  possessed  a 
dozen  sobriquets ;  sometimes  she  was  known  as  the 
“  Black  Cat,”  at  others  the  “  Red  Tiger.”  There  is 
no  doubt  that  this  woman,  who  walked  about  the 
streets  of  Amsterdam  and  Rotterdam,  and  was  well 
known  to  our  authorities  by  sight,  was  the  instruc¬ 
tress-in-chief  of  the  enemy’s  spies,  although  great 
success  does  not  seem  to  have  attended  her  efforts. 
She  was  a  buxom,  good-looking  creature,  who  probably 
relied  much  on  her  powers  of  fascination  to  induce 
unfortunate  neutrals  to  turn  spy.  Her  headquarters 
were  Antwerp,  but  she  made  a  great  many  trips 
through  Holland  in  a  fast  motor-car,  accompanied  by 
two  men  known  to  be  armed  to  the  teeth,  so  there 
was  little  chance  of  kidnapping  the  lady.  Weird 
stories  were  current  all  over  Holland  as  to  the  awful 
oaths  she  made  her  agents  swear  that  they  would  not 


The  Aftermath  of  War 


287 


turn  traitor ;  but,  having  regard  to  what  we  learnt 
from  the  men  and  women  we  captured,  it  is  quite 
possible  that  the  lady  really  relied  on  bountiful 
promises  of  money,  in  addition  to  a  threat  of  assassina¬ 
tion,  to  ensure  loyalty. 

Well,  they  have  played  their  petty  parts,  these 
puppets  of  the  German  War  Lords.  Their  victims 
lie  buried  in  nameless  prison  graves,  or  are  still  eating 
out  their  hearts  behind  iron  bars,  wondering  perhaps 
if  they  will  ever  again  meet  the  person  who  tempted 
them  to  turn  spy.  It  is  all  dreadfully  pitiful,  all 
the  more  pathetic  in  that  no  country  will  want  them. 
Spying  is  not  a  crime  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word  : 
it  only  becomes  punishable  when  you  are  found  out. 
Some  day,  when  the  nations  of  the  world  grow  more 
sensible,  there  will  be  two  methods  of  treating  spies. 
Those  who  can  prove  patriotism  as  the  inspiring  motive 
will  be  dealt  with  as  prisoners  of  war  ;  the  hirelings 
will  be  condemned  to  the  death  they  richly  deserve. 
There  is  something  radically  wrong  in  the  rules  of 
warfare  when  a  soldier  taken  prisoner  on  the  battle¬ 
field  is  treated  with  honour,  while  a  spy,  who  undertakes 
the  infinitely  more  dangerous  task  of  entering  the 
enemy’s  country  on  the  perfectly  justifiable  errand  of 
obtaining  information  of  value  to  his  country,  is  put 
to  death.  Of  all  the  German  spies  who  came  our  way 
Carl  Lody  will  stand  supreme  as  the  man  who  placed 
country  before  everything.  His  last  letter  deserves 
to  be  a  classic  in  the  history  of  espionage.  “  A  hero’s 
death  on  the  battle-field  is  certainly  finer,  but  such  is 
not  to  be  my  lot,  and  I  die  here  in  the  enemy’s  country, 
silent  and  unknown.  But  the  consciousness  that  I 
die  in  the  service  of  the  Fatherland  makes  death  easy.” 

Brave  words  :  braver  spirit.  Had  there  been  more 


288 


German  Spies  at  Bay 

of  such  spirit  displayed  amongst  the  spies  whom  the 
Germans  sent  here  there  would  not  have  been  the 
feeling  of  profound  contempt  which  the  enemy  engen¬ 
dered  through  sending  so  many  unfortunate  individuals 
to  their  death. 

I  suppose  the  fate  of  a  few  spies  is  trifling  alongside 
the  greater  catastrophe  of  the  twelve  million  men 
who  laid  down  their  lives  in  battle.  But  it  represents 
an  absorbing  phase  of  a  war  which  was  without  prece¬ 
dent.  It  will  be  many,  many  years  before  England 
is  again  invaded  by  such  numbers  of  spies.  Indeed, 
it  is  quite  possible  that,  if  Germany  should  try  to  make 
war  in  the  future,  she  will  find  it  more  profitable  to 
confine  her  espionage  to  the  actual  area  of  operations. 
The  people  whom  we  collected  to  trap  spies  have 
scattered  to  the  four  corners  of  the  earth  ;  the  part 
they  played  in  the  great  struggle  for  civilization  will 
probably  never  be  told  outside  this  book.  But  I  should 
feel  that  justice  had  not  been  done  if  some  record 
were  not  made  of  the  brilliant  work  accomplished  in 
assisting  to  defeat  an  enemy  who  utilized  every  con¬ 
temptible  subterfuge  to  attain  his  ends.  Many 
volumes  of  history  will  be  written  for  hundreds  of 
years  to  come,  telling  what  our  Navy,  our  Army 
and  our  Air  Force  did  in  the  Great  War,  but  they  will 
be  silent  concerning  the  people  who  helped  to  win  the 
war  other  than  on  the  battle  grounds.  If  this  little 
book  is  not  written  in  vain  it  will  make  people  realize 
that  there  are  others  who  have  a  claim  to  the  gratitude 
of  the  nation. 


THE  END 


Printed  at  The  Chapel  River  Press,  Kingston,  Surrey. 


